Full Circle
by Wishes2Dreams
Summary: Sometimes things don't go as expected. In Lydia's case, that's a given. Who would've guessed marrying a notorious con man-slash-poltergeist could have some particularly unsavory consequences? Yeah, she should've known better. Misery loves company - even in Paradise. (Sequel to The Tie That Binds)
1. The Voice

**A/N:** _Greetings everyone! It's me again! Back when I started writing my first Beetlejuice fanfic, I'd always wanted to make a trilogy out of my ultimately really long story idea. Honestly, I didn't know if I could do that, due to time restraints and fear of losing my motivation for my hobby. I tried to piece each story together in a way that I could leave each one (Mad Love and The Tie That Binds) as is should I not be able to finish. After the last one, I didn't know if I should go any further, because I was really happy with how it turned out. However, I still wanted to finish those loose ends nagging in my mind, and so I wrote the whole thing before ever attempting to post any of it. I didn't want it to be a disappointment, and after really enjoying writing it, I said: "Eh? What the hell?" Not to sound cliche, but you really do only live once, so I decided to put it out here. I really did love finishing what I had planned all along, and I hope you all enjoy it as well. If not, I sincerely apologize and thank you for giving it a chance anyway. Truthfully, I'm happy I did it, and I wouldn't want it any other way. Also... **Warning: **This fic is once again loaded with naughty words and some offensiveness here and there, as per usual. It's all in good fun, however! What can I say? Our favorite Ghost With the Most is an opinionated guy, amirite?! Okay, I'm rambling on now. I'll post it all as I tweak each chapter. Again, thanks to all who read my stuff! _

* * *

Chapter 1: The Voice

_Lydia..._

_Lydia...Can...you...hear...me?_

...

Lydia's eyes burst open in the dark. It was back again. That voice. It had come and gone throughout the years, sometimes whispering to her once in a while, other times calling her for nights on end. After an extended period of silence, it had crept back into her subconscious again, causing her to feel uneasy and disjointed. Still, she had no idea who it was, where it came from, or if it was little more than the musings of an angsty mind.

She sat up from her ridiculous heart-shaped bed, wiping cold sweat from her brow and gazing across to the empty space beside her. Maybe it was all in her head. She had been stressed out a lot lately. After all, it had been another one of _those _nights.

Lydia crept up from the bed, straightening her lacy nightgown and tiptoeing through the warm, breezy magical hut she now called home in Paradise, of all places. And, of all places, leave it to her to be absolutely fucking miserable.

She quietly stepped past the couch, noting that _he_ wasn't there either. She sighed, shrugging and making her way over to the mini bar in the kitchen to grab a drink. As she poured a shot of liquor, she could hear the front door slowly creak open. She rolled her eyes and desperately gulped down her shot, before quickly pouring herself another one.

She took another shot, watching the lit tip of his cigar travel through the darkness. The smell of smoke and whiskey hit her nostrils, while that all too familiar dread and frustration built up inside of her.

"The fuck'er you doin' up so late?" he muttered, before flicking on the light.

"_Nice to see you, too._" Lydia scoffed, before hastily pouring her third. "I could ask you the same thing, _dear_..." She turned to lock eyes with the irritated poltergeist.

"Same thing yer doin' there, Snookie Wookums..." he growled, blowing smoke at her. "And the same damned thing you were doin' earlier, minus the get drunk and take off my clothes shit..."

"You're crazy, BJ! I was taking off my clothes so I could swim! I wasn't naked, dumbass!" she spat, making sure to down the third shot and just go right to chugging out of the bottle, if for no other reason than to further piss him off.

"Hey! HEY!" he snapped, yanking the bottle out of her hand. "Ya might as well been wearin' nothin'. Don't think I don't notice all those young punks starin' at yer ass, Babe, 'cause I do!"

"I was in a BATHING SUIT, BJ! And there are literally guys everywhere here! We live on a fucking BEACH! Did you not notice that there are just as many women? I can't avoid everyone just to make you stop bitching!" she raised her voice, growing more enraged by the second. "I quit wearing bikinis, for god's sake!"

"Only cause I said somethin'!" he remarked, taking a drink from the bottle of alcohol he'd swiped from her.

"Yeah, because it was stupid then, and it's stupid now! I've done absolutely nothing wrong, and you still don't trust me!" Lydia yelled, slamming her hand down on the counter.

"Babe, I told ya. It ain't you I don't trust, it's all these little cocksuckin' dweebs I gotta watch!" he said, flicking his cigar out of existence.

"You can't watch _everybody_, BJ." she rolled her eyes, wondering just how she'd allowed his possessiveness to get this bad again.

"You wanna bet, Sugartits? Just cause I ain't in the Neitherworld no more don't mean I'm not capable of torchin' some little shit's balls off!" he grinned darkly, causing her stomach to turn. Why did he insist on acting like a moron when he was pissed off?

"BJ..." she moaned, feeling queasy. Maybe half a bottle of liquor in five minutes was a bit of a stretch, despite the raw emotions. "Can you please stop?"

"Hey, yer the one that told me to leave. I've been sittin' on a lawnchair for like five hours or some shit. I thought you'd be asleep by now. Not my fault, _wifey_." he griped, stepping up to her. "If I recall, yer the one who got all pissy about it."

"Yeah! After you tried to make me swim in a baggy sweatshirt and pajama pants!" she snapped, crossing her arms and shooting him the best _fuck you _glare she could muster in her now semi-drunk, mostly nauseous state.

"What? It was cute on ya!" he remarked, trying his best to play dumb, but completely and utterly failing like the big dope that he ultimately was.

"It's stupid, BJ! If you didn't notice, no other woman there was swimming in full freaking clothes! I was mad because it's idiotic! I'm a grown woman. You don't get to tell me what I can or can't do!" she said, poking him in the chest with her finger.

"Don't be so sure ah' that Mrs. Juice..." he grabbed her hand, pulling her into him. "Yah don't have my last name fer no reason, Toots..."

"You're my spouse, dipshit, not my boss..." Lydia sighed, pushing away from him, still feeling far too pissed to want contact.

"Hey, now...It ain't like I'm tryin' to be mean to yer ass." he said, with Lydia somehow sensing a strange undertone of hurt in his voice.

"I know. That's the problem, BJ. You think it's okay to do that shit. What happened to letting me do what I want? What happened to all that nice stuff you were doing when we first got here?" she asked in earnest, backing away from him.

"Yeah, but we wouldn't really hitched then, Babe. Not like I had much of a choice at that point. What dude wants other guys eyein' his wife's goods?" he threw his grimy hands up in protest. "An' believe my ass when I say, they _are _lookin'. I'm a fuckin' guy, Babe. I know this shit. I've had years of trainin' in that area, if ya knowhaddimean..."

Lydia sighed, stepping away from him and heading back toward the bedroom. "Well, maybe not every guy is as pervy as you are..." she muttered, feeling completely over all of his foolishness.

"I wouldn't bet on it." he snorted, falling in step behind her. Suddenly, she felt his cold hands grab her by the waist and whip her around to face him. "Even if they ain't all douchebags like me, they'd still stare at ya. Look at ya, Babe...Yer fuckin'-"

"NO! Don't say it, BJ. I'm not perfect." she interrupted him, placing a finger on his lips to shoosh him. She didn't need him to say that shit right now. She didn't want to be charmed or wooed, or coerced into giving him any more slack than she already had time and again. It only seemed to make him worse. He'd only get more controlling, more jealous, and more possessive if she allowed him to think his insanity was okay. "Not even close."

"Pfft...Bullshit..." he grumbled, pulling her closer.

"BJ..." she sighed. "Can we just get some sleep? I don't wanna talk about it anymore."

"Fine." he huffed, letting her go.

Lydia paced forward, planting her queasy self back into bed and feeling him thud into it right behind her. She stared at the ceiling, wondering just where it all went so wrong. He was so different when they'd first arrived there. She thought long and hard, knowing deep down that she should have seen it coming, given his past behavior. Of course, it didn't happen all at once. First it was subtle dirty looks to men that glanced her way. Eventually it was the way she dressed, and who she was talking to. Then he began to jump onto her for staying away from him too long. He controlled her little by little. Though she understood him to an extent, it had become insufferable far too long ago. Now, she was miserable. In Paradise. That was an utterly terrifying realization.

"Hey, Babe!" his grating voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"What, BJ?" she turned to him, feeling irritation to the fullest extent.

"I said goodnight to ya." he remarked.

"Oh, yeah...Goodnight." she gave a short reply, before turning away from him and closing her eyes. No more than two seconds later, he'd snaked an arm around her and pulled her into him. She felt his hand move down her thigh suggestively.

"Ya know, Babe...We can do a lotta other things besides talk..." he growled in her ear, causing her to roll her eyes so hard she was sure she'd be staring at her brain by now.

"Yep." she said, lifting his hand and placing it back away from her. "Like sleeping."

"Yeah, but that ain't no fun, Babe..." he drawled, as she turned to see him grinning like a madman. He leaned forward and began to kiss her lips.

Lydia smirked, half charmed by his blatant affection, but she pulled away, fearing she'd go too far herself due to her fit of boozing. "I love you. Goodnight, BJ."

"Awww, fine. Love you too, Mrs. Juice," he pouted, still squeezing her tightly. God, he was so damned clingy.

Finally, things fell silent. Finally, she closed her eyes and drowned out her twisted misery with the dark curtain of sleep.


	2. Try Harder

Chapter 2: Try Harder

Lydia opened her eyes, smelling the scent of breakfast filling throughout her home. She smirked, knowing that he was up to his old tricks again. The cycle was always as follows: Beetlejuice would become a possessive asshole, she'd ultimately get fed up and they'd argue, and then he'd try to be less of an ass and butter her up again, either due to feeling like a scolded puppy or lack of sex. She figured it was probably less of the former and more of the latter. He could be a horny bastard sometimes.

She rolled out of bed, walking over to her dresser and brushing her long, black hair in an attempt not to look like some demon girl who just crawled out of a well.

"Hey, you up Mrs. Juice? I made yer favorite!" Beetle called from the kitchen.

Lydia chuckled to herself, despite her annoyance. "Yep. Let the groveling begin."

After a moment, she walked in the kitchen, seeing a big plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. Beside it was a waffle with a smiley face drawn on it in syrup. Yep, he was definitely trying to get back on her good side. She smirked, looking up to see him in a big, flowery apron and a chef hat, which was no surprise, given his need to exaggerate every move he made.

"Morning, BJ." she smirked, before sitting down. He grinned widely, juicing a hot cup of coffee beside her.

"Mornin', Beautiful!" he grinned, sitting across from her.

"Putting it on a little thick, aren't we?" Lydia chuckled at his more than obvious attempt to undo her pissed off mood.

"Hey, whatever works, Babe." he shrugged, before pulling a smoke from thin air. "Can't have ya ready to chop my balls off at any given moment. Not good fer mah health, ya know."

"Well, this is nice of you BJ. Thanks." she said, before reminding him of the issue at hand. "But you know what would really help? Fix the jealousy thing. Quit trying to control every move I make. That will _definitely_ keep your balls intact." She smiled sweetly, before taking a bite of some bacon.

"Yeah...yeah, I know. I'm workin' on it..." he muttered, before taking an extra long drag from his cigarette. He blew out a ton of smoke before speaking again. "I know I'm a prick, Babe. It's just that ya know I care about ya...and yer all young and hot and shit..." he began, fidgeting about like a crackhead, which usually meant what he was saying was making him uncomfortable as hell. It would be endearing if it wasn't so damned psychotic and insufferable. "And I know you said I was nicer before we really became man and wife and shit...but ya gotta hear me out." he said, his fingers now pinched against the bridge of his nose, as if to stave off a raging headache or perhaps a possible anyeurism. "It's like, completely different shit after we did the whole consummatin' our union stuff...I dunno about you, but it changed like EVERYTHING fer me, Babe! I didn't know what I was missin' out on until I got a hold of you..." he looked over her, making her suddenly feel like a steak dinner with a side of lobster.

"Uh..." she cringed, feeling offput by his sudden weirdness. "You mean the sex?"

"Oh fuck yeah..." he fidgeted about like he was going to either implode or shit himself at any given moment. "A thousand times fuck yeah...Maybe a million..."

Lydia felt her face burn red. Sure, it was flattering, but he was being really honest about it right now, and she never really heard him talk like that too often after they agreed to stay hitched. She had enjoyed it, and she figured he did, he just never said he did to such an insane degree. However, that worried her in a different way. "So, is that it? Just the sex?" she inquired, feeling unsettled.

"Hell no!" he barked, flicking his ashes on the table nervously. "Like, everything! The WHOLE package! You think I'm just yankin' yer chain, but I'm serious about the perfect stuff. Like, ya make me crazy! The more I give a shit, the worse it gets! It's scary as hell!"

Lydia swallowed, feeling more unsettled by the minute. "I care about you too, but I don't control you, BJ. You have to back off. You can't be so," she paused a moment, choosing her words carefully, "intense."

"Yeah, yeah. I know, Babe. It's just hard when I got a wife like you and you got my ass." he admitted, calming down a bit.

"That's not a problem for me, BJ." She spoke honestly. "You know this."

"Er...Yeah, well maybe it's a problem for me sometimes," he admitted. "But, I'll work on it, okay?"

"Okay." she forced a smile, before taking another bite of breakfast. She then swallowed down her eggs, along with that sinking feeling forming inside of her. "Just please try..."

He furrowed his brow at her words. "Or what? What happens if I mess up again?"

Truthfully, Lydia had no idea. She loved him, but this never ending cycle was growing insufferable. "It just makes things hard for me. Please understand, BJ."

He sighed, looking defeated. "Alright, Mrs. Juice. I'll try harder."

* * *

It was a little later in the day, and Lydia sat in a reclined lawnchair, sipping gingerly on a Pina Colada as she began to test her dearly beloved's actual attempt to try harder at not being a psychotic jerk.

She glanced to her right, seeing BJ scratch his gut and grab his beer from the sand, taking a large gulp, before placing his shades on. He seemed calm enough. She figured the day had been ordinary and peaceful enough, so she may as well see if he'd flip out. If anything, it was for her own sanity.

"...Hey, BJ." she hesitantly spoke.

Beetle slowly pulled his shades down, turning to her. "What?"

"Is there any chance you'd go swimming with me?" she asked, innocently enough.

"Nope." he replied bluntly, before pushing his sunglasses up and taking another drink of his beer.

"All this time, and you still won't get in the ocean, will you?" Lydia smirked, taking her own shades off to get a better look at him.

"No, Negative, No-siree, Nada..." he declared, looking slightly irritable due to her usual need to prod him for answers.

"You think you'd get over your little fear by now." she teased, poking the proverbial bear.

"Hey! You try drownin', Mrs. Juice! I did that shit, and I give it a zero out of ten, Babe. Would not try it again. Would sure as hell not recommend!" he snapped, his hand clinching his bottle tightly.

"Alright, alright..." she chuckled, noting that she'd successfully annoyed him (which wasn't too hard, obviously). Now was the time to see if he'd behave himself. "Mind if I go, then?" she asked innocently.

He pulled his shades down again, shooting her a look that said _ I know what your doing, and fuck you and your stupid ass tests. _"Heh...Think yer smart, dontchya Mrs. Juice?" And he did, indeed, know what she was doing. "A'course ya can, Dollface. I ain't gonna be a lil' bitch about it."

Lydia grinned, before standing up and pulling off her super oversized t-shirt. Underneath, she had strategically placed on the most provocative bikini her mind could muster. Yeah, it was a little bit of a dick move, but she did need to see if he'd be an ass about it. It wasn't really anything she'd actually wear, for it was a bit revealing for her taste, but she was still kind of pissed at him, so she figured it was worth the risk to see if he'd bite.

As she glanced down at him, she noted that if his eyes held the ability to fire lazors, that she'd more than likely be incinerated by that point. However, BJ didn't say anything, he just slowly pushed up his glasses and began to vigorously chug the remainder of his booze. He quickly downed it, and poofed another one immediately into his hand, before proceeding to repeat the action. "Lookin' good there, Babe." he muttered defeatedly, in a poor attempt not to show that her little stunt was apparently pissing him off to no end.

Lydia could feel a devilish grin crawl upon her features. "Thanks!" she smiled, before heading off into the water.

It had been a mere twenty minutes, and Lydia could tell that BJ wasn't happy in the least. She noticed he'd already pulled his shades down and glared her way about fifty times by this point, and due to either resentment, malice, or some weird character flaw within herself, she thought it was pretty damned funny. Served him right for being so pushy all the time.

She turned away from him and sniggered mischeivously, before noting that he was turning his head toward someone else. Lydia discreetly followed his gaze to see a guy staring right at her. Her instincts told her to do as she normally did, and pay it no mind. However, today she promptly told her instincts to go fuck themselves. BJ needed to be taught a lesson, and she was going to teach it. Plus, she needed a good little dose of revenge, considering he'd turned into a raging buffoon for the thousandth time.

Lydia turned her gaze toward the horizon, pretending not to see the man staring her down. She backpaddled toward the shore a bit, before standing up, and tossing her long hair over her shoulder in the sexiest way she could muster (which, admittedly, probably wasn't too sexy, but hey she tried). She purposely stuck her _assets _ out, while she wrung water out of her hair and tried to somehow appear sexy doing that. She slyly glanced Beetle's way, noting that he was now sitting straight up, with his glasses perched on his moldy head, holding yet another beer to soon add to his collection of empty bottles. He was glaring a hole through her, and for some reason, she found it fucking hilarious. Now if she could only get the stranger to approach her, then she could turn him away. Maybe then her doofus husband could see that he didn't need to babysit her every waking moment. Maybe BJ would see that she could take care of herself.

"Hello there." a deep, male voice turned her away from her deranged spouse. She whipped around to see that very man grinning widely. His overtly friendly demeanor was a bit off-putting and it did make her feel awkward about enticing another person, but she felt it had to be done to make her very fiendish point clear.

"Oh...Hey..." she mumbled. "How's it going?"

"Great, now." he grinned widely, glancing over her and making her feel kind of gross. Nevertheless, she ventured onward.

"So, uh...What's a pretty thing like you doin' out here alone?" the man continued, stepping closer to her.

"Oh, I'm not alone." she replied, feeling kind of embarrassed now that she thought about how awkward this was. She pointed to BJ, who was actually no longer where he was. _Hey, where was he? _

_ "_She's with me, pal." She gasped, turning to see BJ standing ankle deep in water behind her.

The man wrinkled up his face as he looked to Beetlejuice in what seemed to be a mixture of confusion and disgust. "Ha...You can't be serious."

Before Lydia could even open her mouth to speak, BJ had done it for her. "Oh, I am serious." he growled, grabbing Lydia's wrist and pulling her hand up to the man's gaze, showing her ring. "That's my wife, ya twat!"

The man looked over to Lydia as if looking for validation to the grungy poltergeist's seemingly absurd claims. Shocked and now feeling a bit sick that her little plan had backfired, she simply nodded.

The man simply shook his head in gross disbelief, before walking away.

Lydia stared down into the clear, glimmering water for a moment, at a loss for words. She then decided she could be really stupid sometimes. Maybe teaching him a lesson wasn't such a smart decision. Maybe it would make things worse, considering her blatant attempt to provoke him would only result in more distrust. She then glanced at the ring on her hand, before opening her mouth to speak. "BJ...I..."

"Ah, ah, ah..." he waggled a grimy finger at her. "That's enough, Mrs. Juice. Now put on yer shirt and come sit with me." he spoke calmly, which was probably worse than if he'd yelled and screamed and thrown his normal tantrums. This, however, was much more disconcerting. What the fuck had she done?


	3. Chains

Chapter 3: Chains

Lydia pulled her large, floppy t-shirt on over her wet, revealing bikini, red-faced and feeling pretty embarrassed with herself.

"Ya think yer reeeeaaal cute, dontcha?" Beetle growled, plopping down in his chair again.

"BJ, I was just trying to-"

"Yeah, I know what yer tryin'. Ya ain't that slick, Babe." he said with much distate, before downing more of his brew.

"But you didn't even give me a chance to turn him away! I can do that, ya know!" Lydia huffed, crossing her arms and plopping down in her chair.

"Well, I wanted him to get the point! Besides, look at my ass. Ya think he woulda' believed ya? He barely believed me! I told ya I'm a gross old fuck, Babe. People ain't gonna expect us to be together. Ya gotta listen to me..." he explained, causing Lydia to feel a bit ashamed of herself. Nonetheless, that didn't give him permission to boss her around all the time. If anything, Lydia only became more confused about their situation. "Besides..." BJ grunted. "I didn't marry a bimbo, and you do a piss-poor job of imitatin' one. I should know. "

"Is that some sort of compliment, or...?" Lydia's face twisted in confusion. If it was, indeed, a weird attempt at flattery, it was a shitty one.

"Well, yeah. Broads like I used to roll with need to do that shit to get some ass. You don't." he admitted bluntly. "But that's all I'm gonna say about it. I'm not gonna sit here and kiss yer ass again after ya tried to piss me off."

"Okay, okay..." Lydia huffed, feeling really foolish. That didn't help anything. Like, at all. "Sorry, BJ..." she sighed, poofing her own beer out of thin air.

Beetle leaned forward, shooting her a telling look. "Ya know, this is the part where I normally lecture yer ass about that mopey apologizin' thing ya do, but I think I'll take this one. That was pretty damned shitty, Juice." he admitted smugly, with a sly grin on his features. "I think I'll revel in that apology for a bit before I get back to ya on the forgiveness part."

Lydia took her beer down from her lips, shooting him a glare. "Really?"

Beetle shrugged, with a big, dopey grin on his face. "Hey, it ain't everyday the ole' B-man gets to be right. I'm gonna soak it up like the fuckin' sunshine, Babe." he cackled.

"Fuck you." Lydia mouthed to him, irritated by his glee.

"Yeah, now that's a great start tah earnin' that forgiveness..." he leered, pulling his glasses down and giving her a suggestive glance.

Lydia shook her head, leaning back in her chair and chugging her beer. God, he was impossible.

* * *

Lydia sat on the balcony, watching the moonlight ripple on the waters and wondering if it really was her fate to be doomed to trouble and confusion even in the most perfect of places. Sure, the rest of her day was relatively peaceful, all previous embarrassments excluded, of course. The problem was that she knew Beetlejuice was wrong to be the way he was, and yet, she'd inadvertendly proved him right.

In all honesty, it probably was weird to see the two of them together in Paradise. And, yes, it probably did make him feel the need to watch over her even more. Of course, it had to be a source of insecurity for him considering his current..._condition._ The past certainly didn't help either, with everyone being completely against him from the get go. However, even in her understanding of all that, Lydia couldn't bring herself to overlook his actions anymore. She missed her freedom, which she somehow always felt she'd lost in some way since the day she'd met Beetlejuice. He'd always had some sort of hold on her that she couldn't explain, and even though he'd promised her that desired freedom, the hold only became tighter once she truly became his wife. Now, it was suffocating her.

Not to mention, being with the likes of Beetlejuice had proven to be incredibly lonely. Once she'd ascended, she'd lost contact with her parents and the Maitlands permanently. No matter how she tried to reach out, she felt something blocking her. Besides, they hated his guts due to his less than stellar actions against her in the past. She basically had to make them drop their torches and pitch forks everytime she uttered his name in their presence. Luckily, Gerald had earned his acsension and eventually landed up in their neck of heaven. Juno was good to see occasionally, too, but with BJ around, it was hard to carry a conversation without him butting in or rushing them off. And although BJ tolerlated him for her sake, she knew he still couldn't stand poor Gerald, and so he smuggled his way into her visits as often as possible. She knew it had to be his lack of trust in them, considering their less than hospitable views of him. However, her understanding didn't help her suffering. She was beginning to feel like he'd chained her in again, only this time the chains were invisible and more wounding. She was beginning to feel less like his wife and more like his prisoner.

"Babe, whatcha doin' up here all alone? You feelin' okay?" BJ's voice chimed in on her thoughts, which caused her to close her eyes and sigh out through her nose in despair.

"It's just...I miss my family, BJ. I can't find them. It's like I'm reaching out, but I'm hitting some huge, black barrier. It's like I'm calling out into the void and no one's answering. It's been so long..." she finally admitted for the first time in a long time.

Beetle rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Eh...Sometimes these things...don't have answers...I mean, there's like a whole fuckin' multiverse of places they can all end up. Ya couldn't get in touch with old dweeby down there until he crossed over to our side." he explained, gesturing toward Gerald's hut in the distance. "I mean, I miss that lack of communication, but ah well, the dipshit's here now for ya to read encyclopedias and shit with. Maybe yer parents'll get here too. Hey, ya never know..." he shrugged, joining her in leaning against the balcony.

There was a long silence between them, as Lydia noticed him slightly fidgeting out of the corner of her eye. It was obvious he was uncomfortable, and it was even more obvious that he was trying to hide it.

She turned to him, in curiosity. "BJ?"

"Yeah, Babe?"

"Why are you doing that?" she asked bluntly, feeling strange about just how peculiar he was acting.

"Doin' what?" he said, fidgeting some more, while he lit a cigarette with his thumb and forefinger.

"You're antsy." she stated flatly, wanting to pry whatever it was out of him.

"Er...Babe, this shit's just awkward as hell." he shrugged, stomping out an ash that landed on the deck. "I mean, I know yer folks hate my entire immortal being an' all...Heh. I'm kinda' dreadin' the day we see 'em again, if I gotta be frank."

"So you think we'll see them again?" Lydia raised a brow, feeling that strange sensation in the air. The static emitting from him was manic and uneasy. She felt his fear.

"Ugh...It's a possibilty, yeah..." he muttered, wiping a hand across his forehead.

Lydia simply stared at him, watching him fidget in her bout of pure, morbid curiosity. Of course, Beetlejuice apparently didn't appreciate her prodding.

"The hell do ya want me to say, Babe? Shit's just weird as hell. They hate me, and it's wierd. I mean, the fuckers...er...uh...I mean yer family have every right to see me as a douche canoe, but hell, it don't make shit any easier! I don't know how the hell I'm gonna prove myself to the likes of someone like _Barbara_..." he scoffed, putting extra emphasis on her god-mother's name to show his spite of the woman. "I mean, c'mon, Mrs. Juice! The woman was perfectly fine with turning me into anal Sandworm compost! I doubt she'd find it in the goodness of her heart tah forgive me now!" he spewed, becoming worked up. "Hell, all yer little friends hate me too. Jerry Tub-o-lard is a given, but yer heaven friends! They despise my ass!"

"How do you know?" Lydia retorted defensively. "You never go out with us. And don't play the victim, because I always invite you!"

"Look, if I wanna watch a bunch of bimbos and gay guys grind on each other, I'll start watchin' porn again. It ain't my scene, kapeesh?" he griped, blowing smoke into the night sky.

"They don't grind on each other. We have get togethers, BJ. They'd probably like you if you gave them the chance." she explained, hoping he'd cut them some slack. "Besides, when we arrived here, you told me to go out and live my life. You WANTED me to make friends. Now it's like you don't expect me to keep living the life I made. I don't understand you."

"There ain't nuthin' to understand. It ain't mah thing, Babe." he stated flatly, flicking his cigarette away and appearing generally disgruntled.

"Of course you won't do that. If it's not your way, it's the highway. You never do anything I want. That's pretty shitty." Lydia blurted out, suddenly reminded of her own hurt.

"Bullshit. I've changed a lot fer yer ass. Don't start whinin' about that junk again." he snapped.

"What change? You're still controlling, possessive, grumpy, and you're still stubborn as hell!" she spoke, raising her voice and feeling another of their frequent arguments bubbling up.

"What CHANGE?! Well, gee, let's see, Mrs. Juice. I gave up breakin' the law, hookers, strip clubs, fightin' in bars, gettin' thrown out ah' bars...even if it was only three times..." he muttered the last part to himself. "Shit, I've changed! Thing's ain't my way, Babe. If they were, you'd stop acting like an entitled little shit and start acting like my wife!"

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Lydia seethed, placing her hands on her hips and feeling livid. After all he'd put her through, he had the stones to call _her _entitled?

"It means quit tryin' to piss me off just to make a fuckin' point! It means quit tryin' to have yer cake an' eat it too, Princess! I already know yer hot an' ya can get any fucker ya want, but ya don't gotta rub it my fuckin' face! I mean, why the fuck do ya wanna wear that shit? Ain't my attention enough? What, are ya really that desperate? Do ya really gotta have everyone else lookin' at ya too?!" he fumed getting in her face and causing her to feel rage from his pure ignorance and twisted point of view.

"No, I don't need anyone else's attention, shit-for-brains! I'm a girl. I like to wear pretty things sometimes. As far as what I did today, I was trying to make a point, and it backfired. I was trying to show you I'm a big girl and I can turn people away. I don't need your help! And, no, I don't try to rub shit in your face. If it was gonna be so hard to be with me, then WHY DID YOU?" she finally snapped, yelling and causing some bystanders to glance up from the beach. Noticing her outburst, Lydia timidly stepped back from the balcony, wringing her hands with angst and anxiety.

"Babe, you know why. I ain't gotta profess that shit every second..." he grumbled, glaring at her.

"Because you love me?" she inquired, feeling angry and nearly out of breath.

"Well, yeah!" he spat, appearing more annoyed than ever.

"Okay. Then do you love me enough to go out with me the next time I meet with my friends?" she asked, partly testing him, partly desperate for him to try at least once. "Please?" she asked, giving in and allowing her desperation to show through. As a matter of fact, it was showing so much, it was beginning to well up in her eyes.

"Ugh...Do I gotta?" he moaned, seemingly giving in.

"Please, BJ. Just once. I'm so fucking sad...I-I need this..." she began to sniffle against her will. Damn her stupid emotions.

"Fine. Alright...alright..." Beetle muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "Just don't...don't do that cryin' thing. Makes me feel like shit..."

Lydia wiped her eyes, turning away from him in embarrassment. "Sorry, BJ...I didn't mean to do that...It just kind of came out."

"Eh...don't do that either..." he mumbled, obviously not wanting her to apologize. "No need to. I'll do it, Babe." he stepped up to her, rubbing her shoulder and appearing defeated in some way. "Hey, it's getting late. Why don't we get some sleep er somethin'? I'll shut my yap. I promise."

Lydia nodded, feeling pretty defeated herself. "Yeah, it's probably best that we do." she agreed, simply wanting to forget everything, if only for a while. It was disturbing that her afterlife had turned into such a mess, and even more so that there seemed to be no way out of it.


	4. My Friend Guilt

Chapter 4: My Friend Guilt

Beetlejuice laid in the dark staring at the ceiling, waiting to make sure Lydia had completely fallen asleep. It had been a while, and she wasn't really showing any signs of wakefulness, so he proceeded to do what he'd done every night since it had first happened.

He slipped out of bed and crept through the house, creaking open the front door and checking the area in front of it.

"Heh. Good." he grunted, before taking his usual seat in his lawnchair. He juiced a cold beer in his hand, and pulled a cigar from thin air as he began his watch.

It began years ago, when old Chuckie had bit the dust. It was a letter. One single, solitary letter. He was in that same, exact spot when it drifted down from the sky. Luckily, Lydia was off with those blasted friends of hers, which gave him enough time to pry. It was addressed to her, from the Powers That Be. It was a summons. Apparently, in Paradise, when family members enter that plane, others are summoned to reunite with them or some bullshit like that.

Beetle inhaled his cigar deeply, trying to push his guilty prick feelings to the side, as his mind drifted to the memories of each of the others. Next was Delia some years later, and finally, those pain in the ass Maitlands had finished their sentence stinking up the old house in Winter Rivers, Connecticut. One by one, the letters had fallen, and it was always late in the night. He'd torched the first of each, only to have more fall in their place. Apparently, they would never quit falling until Lydia accepted them, and his ass was going to make sure that didn't happen. Fortunately, one apparently needed to return the letters to locate a deceased family member at all, and that, against all odds, worked in his favor.

Sure, he was an unforgivable fuckwad for hiding her family from her. Sure, he felt like an asshole for it, but he knew good and well what happened the last time other people chimed in on their marriage. Everyone hated his guts so much they put stupid ideas in Lydia's head that nearly cost him everything. Hell, his ass almost died twice! He knew if the likes of his in-laws had anything to do with it, he'd have his nuts kicked to Saturn and his wife would be doing the permanent aloha out the door. Yeah, that shit wouldn't fly.

"Still hiding those letters I see..." a shrill, hag-like voice hit his ears, as he turned to glare at a canvas of a thousand wrinkles and a smoke-oozing neck hole. Juno was leaning against a giant palm tree, swirling her drink around in her hand and sucking on a cigarette.

"The fuck do you care, Iron Lung?" Beetlejuice remarked, not enjoying the fact that she knew his little secret. And of course, of all unholy oppressors, Juno just HAD to be the one to know. Unfortunately, she knew how that paperwork shit worked enough to figure him out long ago, which, of course, sucked all kinds of horse balls.

"I don't." She shrugged, smoke spewing from that ungodly hole in her throat. "But I'm sure your wife would."

"Ya think I don't know that? I'm sure she'd be fuckin' thrilled, but I'm also pretty sure my ass would be kicked out the door." he grunted, watching the sky above. "The hell you doin' up this late, anyway?" he inquired, trying to divert the conversation just to get Juno's nosey ass out of his business.

"Taking a walk. It's peaceful at night. Not so many horny young people and god awful hipsters running around this place at this hour. They're usually passed out in their own vomit by now." She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her martini. "How is Mrs. Juice these days? I haven't seen her in a while."

Beetle paused, taking an extra long drink from his bottle. "Eh, tah be honest, not the best. I think she's gettin' a little uh, " he looked off in the distance uncomfortably, feeling that shitty guilt hit him again, "depressed..."

"Pfft! No wonder! She's married to you." Juno grinned, while Beetle felt the urge to wipe that smirk off her face with nothing short of a sandblaster. "I'd be depressed too."

"Please don't hold back, Junie. Tell me how ya _really _feel!" he grinned, his voice dripping with smart-ass. "I'm bein' serious here..." he continued, glaring at her.

"You know why, Juice. I know you're stupid, but you're not _that_ stupid. It's been years upon years now, and she hasn't seen her family. She's lonely. As a matter of fact, the last time I spoke with Lydia, she told me so. And the time before. She mentions it all the time, Juice." Juno replied, seeming to genuinely show some concern.

"Lydia has me with her like all the fuckin' time! Why the hell is she gettin' lonely?" Beetlejuice blurted out, feeling pissed that this whole family thing needed to be flung in his face again like a big pair of saggy tits.

"Now _you _don't even believe that, Juice. I know better. Everyone gets the opportunity to reunite with their loved ones that come to Paradise. I've met with many of my own people up here, and let me tell you, Juice, it's nice having them around." she stated, taking a drag from her smoke.

"You have an actual family?! I thought you were formed in some petri dish, like a flesh eating virus or some shit." he grinned deviously, watching her many wrinkles scowl into an uglier form than usual, which was pretty impressive. Then he began to wonder if the rest of those demon spawn she called relatives were just as scary as her. Probably.

"Stop deflecting, asshole!" she scolded him. "You know it's not fair to her, Juice."

"Well it damn sure ain't fair to be outnumbered by a bunch of stiffs who want to ceremonially tar and feather my ass, either!" he snapped, growing pissed off from all that pesky guilt he was trying to ignore.

"Oh, please!" Juno huffed, before downing the rest of her drink. "You mean the stiffs you held hostage to threaten Lydia with?"

"Hey!" he growled defensively, biting down hard on his cigar. Why'd the old bat have to bring that up again?

"Or the stiffs that you terrorized while trying to marry their teenaged daughter?" she continued, clearly trying to make him feel like shit. "Or when you-"

"OKAY! Okay!" Beetlejuice stood up, spewing cigar smoke everywhere. "I get it! It _is_ fair, but I ain't gonna have those asshats take her away just cause they hate me! I changed a lot for my wife! I ain't the same jackass I was then!"

"Really? Then why is so miserable? And why do you feel the need to rush her off every time she tries to talk about it?" Juno asked him, accusingly.

"Since when do you pay that much fuckin' attention to my marriage? You that bored?" he huffed, feeling his temper rise more and more.

"I don't. It's just that obvious, you dimwit." Juno stated bluntly, flicking the ashes from her cigarette.

"Since when did you decide to become so fuckin' benevolent?" he seethed, gritting his teeth. "Don't forget, you got here on a technicality too. You ain't no angel yerself."

Juno shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, you're right. That's why I don't think it's fair to Lydia. Remember, she's the reason we're here in the first place. She saved our asses, Juice."

"Remember?!" he scowled. "Ya think I'd forget? Believe me, I feel like a dickwad, but it's either hide this shit and hope fer the best, or my ass is out! I can't do that shit, Juno! Not again..."

She shot him a condescending glare. "It may not come out now, but sooner or later, Lydia will find out. Then you're going to have a lot of explaining to do."

At her words, just as it had happened at the same time ever so often, Beetlejuice caught a glimpse of the glittering envelopes fluttering down from the starlit sky.

"Fuck. I knew it. They're back..." he muttered to himself, gazing up until Juno caught his attention once more.

"You could fix it all now. You could show her those letters. If you don't she will find out, and it won't be pretty, Juice. Mark my words!" she warned, pointing her gnarly old finger at him.

He watched them fall, all while feeling like the biggest piece of shit in the afterlife. But no matter how awful he felt about making Lydia miserable, a miserable Lydia was better than no Lydia at all. He sighed to himself, watching four sparkly letters land in the sand at his crusty feet.

Beetlejuice turned to Juno, scowling. "Ain't gonna happen."

She glared back, before beginning to walk away. "Then you ARE dumber than you look."

"Piss off, Wrinklebags! Fuck your ominous warning bullshit! I ain't got no choice!" he yelled, quickly scrambling to pick up the letters and stash them under his Hawaiian shirt. He watched, scowling, as she glared at him, before walking away.

* * *

Beetlejuice quietly clicked the front door shut behind him, his brow furrowing when he noticed Lydia was sitting passed out on a barstool with a half empty bottle of rum in one hand and her head on the kitchen counter.

He sighed to himself, before reaching under his shirt and grasping the letters. He moved out of her line of sight, before taking them out and beginning to juice them into flames. Except, this time, they weren't desintegrating.

"The hell?" he muttered, trying to torch them again. However, his juice wasn't working on these letters. Not this time. As a matter of fact, nothing was working. He couldn't even make them disappear.

"...B..J...?" Lydia mumbled from the kitchen, causing him to nearly shit himself in horror. He gasped, immediately hiding the letters behind his back.

"Yeah, Babe?" he replied, nervously, walking toward her in an effort not to expose the incriminating evidence.

"I'm...kinda...drunk..." she continued, obviously half-asleep and completely trashed.

"Yeah, uh, I see that, Babe." he mumbled, relieved she wasn't actually very aware. Hiding those letters would be much easier since she was wasted. "Uh, be right back."

He darted off up to the balcony, where he quickly juiced a small dimensional hole in the top of the hut, shoved the letters into it, and juiced the portal shut. He ambled back down the stairs to see her passed out again.

He paused and swallowed back his guilt, before nudging Lydia. "Heya, c'mon. Let's get ya to bed, Mrs. Juice."

"...Uh...Dad?" she muttered, her eyes glazed over.

"Not hardly." His lip curled up in disgust. "C'mon. Up we go, Babe." he said, picking her limp, inebriated self up and packing her to the bedroom. "Never thought someone could get drunk more than my ass. Guess I was wrong." he shrugged, before laying her down and pulling the blankets over her.

Beetlejuice looked her over for a moment. Lydia laid there like a pale angel as the moonlight filtered in through a nearby window onto her features. He knew why she did that same thing night after night. She was lonely and miserable, and it was all his fault. As shitty as that was, she was still there, at least. For now. He ran his moldy hand threw her long, black hair.

Fuck, now he was feeling all depressed and shitty and stuff. "Welp, better go finish the rest ah yer rum, Babe." Yep, there was no sleeping for his ass tonight.


	5. Unsavory Agreements

Chapter 5: Unsavory Agreements

"Hey...BJ..."

Feeling a nudge on his shoulder, Beetlejuice raised his head up off the kitchen counter, trying to focus on one of three Lydia's whirring about in front of his face.

"You okay?" she asked, as he narrowed in on her.

"Yeah...I'm fine, Babe. Just takin' a nap." he said, wincing from the copious amounts of alcohol he'd drank before his head had ultimately hit the counter.

"Are you sure? It's seven o'clock." she replied, appearing a bit concerned.

Beetlejuice smirked. "Hell, it's still early."

"No, BJ. The sun's going down." Lydia said, seating herself on the barstool beside him.

"Oh." He grimaced, realizing she was about to interrogate his ass right about now. Damnit! He should have hidden his angsty boozing better than that!

"You sure you're okay?" she prodded him again, which meant she was only beginning her investigation, and that meant that if he didn't answer to her liking, then he was royally fucked.

By this point in the marriage, he'd learned not to totally lie and say he was feeling fine. That shit never worked, for her all seeing eye could pierce right through it. Rather, he'd learned a more refined method of bullshitting. This included a nuanced trifecta of omitting certain truths, telling half lies instead of full ones, and mixing it with a subtle hint of deflection. Yeah, it took a lot of trials and a hell of a lot of errors, but it brought his suffering down to a minimal level, so he figured what the hell.

"I won't lie, Babe. I was feelin' pretty shitty last night." he began.

He watched as Lydia furrowed her brow in concern. "Why? What happened?"

"Well, I found ya passed out in the same spot I am. Ya do that every night now. Yer obviously not a happy camper, Babe. Makes me feel like shit, that's all." he began, steering the conversation toward her, with a bit of truth. Of course it made him feel like hell, but that wasn't the whole reason. Either way, it had gotten her attention.

"Oh." Lydia paused, biting her bottom lip nervously, which did tell him she was pondering over her unhappinness. "It isn't all the time. There's just some things that I'm...struggling with, I guess." she shrugged.

Okay, now the conversation was clearly away from him, but he didn't like where it was going, nonetheless. He pushed away all the liquor bottles he'd emptied before his drunken slumber, and sighed. "Ya mean my ass, don't ya?"

"Well, you could be a little less controlling." she admitted, averting her gaze while fidgeting and clacking her fingernails against the counter.

"Yeah, yeah, I know..." he muttered, scratching his moldy head. "That it?"

"Just missing my family and all that stuff I told you before. It's nothing, BJ. I'm just tired of feeling bad over it. I'm going to leave it alone. There's nothing I can do, anyway." she exhaled, seeming defeated.

Okay, now this was heading into some depression level shit, so he had to do something to keep those gnawing guilty feelings at bay. "Uh, anything I can do?"

Lydia seemed to switch gears when he'd asked that fateful question and ultimately sealed himself into some self-castrating favor just to keep her happy. "Well, I do have this little thing tonight, if you're up to it."

Fuck! Of course he wouldn't be up to it. First of all, he felt like his head had been kissed by nothing short of Thor's Hammer. Secondly, he hated her stupid little friends and those shitty little get togethers or whatever the fuck they called them. It was moments like these that made him fully regret ever letting her "do her own thing". "Er...What're ya doin', exactly?" he forced himself to ask, fully surpressing his urge to blurt out an emphatic "fuck no".

"Remember what I told you about, BJ? Kevin's having a get together tonight, and I'd love it if you'd come with me. Who knows, you might actually like it." Lydia smirked.

Oh, fuck, not _ Kevin. _Beetlejuice hated hearing that name, and it was the number one reason on the list of why he should've never given Lydia any space in the first place. Now, she was sucked into his little shindigs with all these young shits he had nothing in common with. Good thing the fucker was gay, at least, or he'd have a whole other set of problems to deal with on top of the ones he already had.

Apparently, Lydia noticed his hesitation. She slid her delicate hand over and placed it on top of his, asserting her female charms over his currently shriveling manhood. Hell, his nuts belonged to her long ago, so it wasn't like he'd had any choice in the matter.

"Please, BJ?" she asked softly, causing his dick to all but fall off.

He sighed, inwardly admitting defeat. "Sure, Babe."

Lydia smiled, and somehow his dread and resentment resided for a moment. She did have the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen on any creature, living or dead. And, unfortunately, all it took was that look of genuine happiness on her face to cause his manly dominance to go fuck itself. Who was he kidding, he was pussy whipped as hell. Besides, he was a dickwad for being such a liar all the time, so the least he could do was come to her shitty little party or whatever.

"Great!" she perked up, forming a hot cup of coffee in her hand. She slid it over to Beetle. "Better get rid of that hangover first."

He'd rather get rid of Kevin. Besides, he was probably just going to get drunk again in order to tolerate her little prissy friends. Then again, he'd have to be alert enough to stop all the young punks from trying to bang her. Sure, being around a bunch of wasted, possibly horny people was easy when he was single and didn't give a shit. Now, it was a fucking chore.

However, despite his angsty inner-turmoil and general distaste for everything her little idea entailed, he forced a big, fake grin on his face. "Yeah. Thanks, Babe."


	6. Suffering

Chapter 6: Suffering

Beetlejuice sulked behind Lydia as she walked along the shoreline, holding a beer in one hand and a cigar in another while simultaneously hoping to either keep his shit together tonight or spontaneously combust and be done with it. He was hoping for the former, but was pretty sure he'd be going down in a blaze of fuckery before the night was over.

"I'm really glad you decided to come with me, BJ. I've told them all about you." she smiled at him over her shoulder.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Just what did the old ball and chain tell them all? That he tried to trick her into marriage when they first met? That he chained her in his house once and held her hostage? That he was an ex-fugitive in the Neitherworld and used to bang a lot of ugly hookers? Surely she didn't tell them he was even remotely normal to be around or even look at.

"Er...You did? What'd ya tell 'em?" he raised an eyebrow, as he puffed extra hard on the cigar dangling from his lips.

"Don't worry, BJ. They don't know _everything_." she smirked. "They know that we were friends a long time, and now we're married. I didn't tell them any crazy shit."

"Did ya lie an' tell 'em I'm handsome, too?" he griped, already feeling weird about going to see the likes of _Kevin._ Even Gerald wasn't seeming that intolerable at this point, and that was all kinds of fucked up.

"They know you're a poltergeist, BJ. They've seen the Neitherworld people around here before. There's like ten thousand or more living here now, remember?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, thanks to you, Babe." he smiled half-heartedly, reminded of Lydia's selfless act that had allowed him and a lot of other corpses to snake their way into Paradise.

"That's beside the point. They won't be surprised. It's not really a big deal." Lydia replied, downplaying her accomplishments in her usual humble manner. She was still way too good for him, and that just made him feel worse. "Almost there." she smiled, pointing to a group of huts in the distance, where a swarm of mostly young, probably stupid people were gathered.

Loud dance music was beating off in the distance, yet no one was really dancing at the moment. They were all standing around mingling and shit that Beetlejuice hated. How the fuck was he going to mingle? Of course, he needed to let everyone know Lydia was his actual wife, and not just some kind young hot chick who took a random crusty old dead guy with her to a party.

He grinned, slithering an arm around Lydia's shoulder and pulling her into him. "So, uh...This one ah them parties where people hide and hook up and shit? Cause I'm all into that, Babe..." he teased, though he thought it would be pretty damned hot to do that. In reality, she'd Roundhouse Kick him in the nads before she'd let that happen, and he knew it. It was just fun to get a rise out of her. That may be the only fun he'd have the whole damned night, anyway.

"What are we, in high school?" Lydia rolled her eyes, sniggering. "We're not at prom, dickhead."

He shrugged, amused by her reaction. "Alright, suit yerself." He grinned widely, though his smile was fading as they finally made their way up to the group of people. There were a lot of chicks there, so that wasn't so bad. However, there were still plenty of dudes, and he was pretty sure they weren't all into dick like Kevin was, so that could be a potential problem. Feeling suddenly really shitty and insecure again, he hugged Lydia even tighter to him.

Unbeknownst to him, however, was the fact that _Kevin _himself had been approaching them the whole time he was scanning the area for threats. Damn, that hangover was messing with his stalking skills. How the hell could he miss a tall dude in booty shorts and high heels?

"Lydia!" Kevin squealed, running up to Beetle's wife and causing her to step away from Beetlejuice himself, which he was not exactly pleased with. "Girl, I'm so glad you could make it! You look so gooood!" he exclaimed, giving her a big, gay hug, and causing Beetle to roll his eyes and take another drink of his beer to distract himself.

"So do you." she smiled sweetly, turning back to Beetlejuice. "And this is BJ."

"BJ! Hi, it's so good to finally meet you! Lydia's told me so much about you! Oh, this is fabulous! You two look so good together! Angel girl meets poltergeist! So quirky! Love it!" he chimed, causing Beetle to have to fight the urge to snarl his upper lip.

"Yeah...Likewise, buddy." Beetlejuice forced himself to faintly smile, holding out his hand.

"Oh, honey, I don't do handshakes. Lydia's like family to me, and that makes you the same. Come here!" Kevin said, blindsiding Beetlejuice with another big, gay hug directed completely at him. He was pretty sure he could feel Kevin's bulge on his leg, so yeah. Just why the fuck did he come to this party again? He glanced over to Lydia in his awkward terror, only to see her eating it up with a big, mischievous grin on her face. He was going to get her for this.

"...Uh, thanks...I guess..." Beetlejuice muttered, after being released, all the while making sure to shoot Lydia an evil glare that said she should have fucking warned him about all the impromptu groping he'd possibly receive.

"Oh! And you'll have to meet Al!" Kevin chimed in again, ripping Beetle away from his bout of glaring. "Alejandro! Alejandro! Bitch, you get over here now! I have someone for you to meet!"

"Oh shit." Beetle quietly muttered to himself, feeling awkward as hell.

"What is it, dear?" An older man with a ponytail, a tank top brimming with chest hair, and a tight pair of leather pants came out of the crowd, before locking eyes with Lydia.

"Well, hello there!" He spoke to her before glancing at Beetle. "Is this that husband of yours you've been telling us about?"

"Al, this is BJ! BJ, this is my partner, Al." Kevin smiled, waving his hand flamboyantly toward him.

"It's a pleasure, BJ. We hope to see more of you." he said, though Beetlejuice was wondering just what the hell he actually meant by the last statement. Al held out his hand, and with much relief, Beetle was content to shake it.

"Well, Lydia, BJ, we'll let you two get settled in and I'll come find you later." Kevin smiled widely, before the two men disappeared into the crowd, greeting other guests.

Beetle stood aghast, slowy looking over to Lydia. "The hell was that?"

"Geez, BJ. Kevin's just affectionate. It's not like he was going to eat you or anything. He's a sweet guy, and so is Al. They're just being welcoming." She scolded, before taking his hand, which made him feel ever so slightly better. "C'mon BJ. I want you to meet some other people." she said, as she pulled him along. He made sure to juice a whiskey bottle into his hand at that point. He was going to need it.

* * *

Time had passed. How much, Beetle had no fucking clue. He sat at the tiki bar downing shots in an attempt to get as shitfaced as possible in order to make this nightmare "get together" shit a little more tolerable. Of course, all the liquor in the afterlife couldn't possibly wash him of the scarring first impressison Kevin's bulging trouser snake had left on him. Or the awful music, or her insufferable taste in friends. If he had to pretend to be interested in one more person's boring hobbies, he was pretty sure he'd fling himself in the ocean, and that was saying something, given he fucking hated water.

While he sat there, sloshing the little umbrella about in his drink and trying to avoid eye contact with every dead person there, a middle-aged woman seated herself beside him. She had bleached blonde hair, a spray tan that took the pigment of human skin to the most unnatural level of orange he'd ever seen, and apparently copious amounts of plastic surgery, which of course, meant she had some giant, fake ass lips and even faker cans.

Beetle grunted to himself, deciding to down the rest of his drink and ignore yet another person he didn't want to have to look at, because that was how all those pesky, unwanted conversations got started in the first place. All it would take was the slightest bit of fucking eye contact, and she'd be on him like a white on rice. First it would be the awkward introduction shit, followed by an unprecedented game of five hundred questions that he sure as shit didn't want to answer or explain. He looked away, miserably, scanning the area for his wife. Just where the fuck was Lydia when he needed her? Oh, right. She was talking to her fucking _fr__iends. _

"I've never seen you here before," the woman spoke, forcing Beetlejuice to have to look at her against his will. Fuck.

"Er...Yeah, I ain't been here before. It's kinda mah wife's thing." he muttered, raising his hand for the bartender, who he was pretty sure was a dude in a dress and a wig, to bring him another drink and pronto.

"Oh?" The woman raised a thickly painted on eyebrow. "And who might that be?"

Beetle sighed. "Her name's Lydia. Lydia Juice," he replied with about as much zeal as a piece of roadkill.

"Oh! Lydia Juice! So you must be BJ! I'm Cindy! I'm Alejandro's sister! So glad to finally meet you!" she exclaimed, holding out her hand. Well, it wasn't another grope-hug, so he'd settle for the unwanted handshake.

"Eh, good tah meet yah." he replied, giving a half smile in an attempt to not look like a total asswipe. He didn't need anyone yapping to his wife about his rudeness and shit. The last thing he needed was to piss Lydia off right now.

"I've heard so much about you two! Such an interesting couple!" she grinned widely, her bright red lipstick reminding him of copious amounts of hookers he'd seen back in the Neitherworld. It was weird as hell, actually. The old B-man would probably be trying to bang the shit out of this broad, but his current pussy-whipped state wouldn't dare even think of it. Lydia had changed everything about him, and hadn't even tried to. She was the only reason he was tolerating this useless shit that he used to fucking live for. It was weird as hell.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." he smirked, trying not to actively be a smartass, though the tempation was great. Interesting was just another way to say that an ugly rotten fucker like himself was more likely to get a restraining order from a chick like Lydia rather than a marriage.

"So I hear you two were good friends for a long time?" the woman continued, not willing to release him from this god awful conversation.

"Uh, yeah. We go way back. Who'da thunk she'd end up with an old shit like me?" he slipped, instantly noting that maybe ingesting ten gallons of booze was a bit much for the occasion.

"Haha! So funny, too! She told me you were funny! I see Lydia all the time. Such a sweetheart! You should come out with her more often!" the woman continued, causing him to feel even more uncomfortable. One of these little escapades was enough torture, but the thought of coming here often was akin to getting bashed in the testicles with a claw hammer.

"I don't think this is really mah scene, if ya get mah drift." he shrugged, still attempting to NOT tell her to go fuck off. "I mean, I used to party all the time and shit, but it ain't the same to me no more." he admitted, though he didn't know if that was a drunken mistake. Nonetheless, the tranny bartender had already brought his drink to pile on top of the copious amounts of alcohol he'd already put away, and he was giving less fucks by the minute, so he rambled on. "I mean, I used to be a wild fucker, ya know? Before Mrs. Juice came along, I was out all night doin' shit like this. I mean, no offense, but shit's kinda lame now...I mean, I'm doin' this fer her."

"Oh, I see..." the woman bit her lip and nodded, before grabbing her purse and digging through it. "I feel ya, BJ. I know. I ain't what I used to be, either. But I have something you might find useful." she said pulling out a bottle of colorful pills. "Here. This should help you enjoy your time here with the Misses. I just take one, and it does the trick. You'll be having fun in no time!"

"Eh..." he snarled his lip up, grabbing the bottle and eyeing it. "What is it?"

"Just try one first, then tell me what you think." the woman grinned.

Beetlejuice shot her his best what the fuck look. "This ain't no roofie or some shit is it?"

"Oh, no! You'll be very aware. It's just that everything will be more enjoyable. The music starts to sound good, the people are suddenly interesting, and that awful boredom goes down the drain. I use them occasionally. Here." she said, popping the lid and handing him a strange, pink pill. "Just take it if you feel you need it. I took them all the time during my stripping days. Made me hurl a time or two twirlin' around the pole, but all in all, it was a good time." she stated, before taking her drink and standing. "It was nice to meet you, BJ." she grinned widely, before clacking off in her insanely high heels.

"Stripper, huh? Figures..." he muttered to himself, eyeing the pink, heart-shaped pill. A large part of him said fuck no, and that it was a horrendous idea that would more than likely cause him to commit some sort of debauchery that would ultimately end in Lydia punching his balls up to his throat. Then again, the party itself was already punishment enough.

He shrugged, deciding to stay neutral on the matter, shoving the pill in his pocket and focusing on his less risky booze instead. Of course, it was only a moment later that three young chicks gathered around the bar beside him and began giggling and chattering at a rate that felt nothing short of fucking nails grating on a chalkboard. Okay that was enough of that shit.

Beetlejuice quickly knocked back the remainder of his drink, before leaving his spot. Since when did broads become so damned annoying? In the old days, he would have received at least ten slaps to the face by now just from trying to persuade one into banging him. Now, he couldn't wait to get the fuck away from them. Shit was weird now. Real weird.

Ever since Lydia had come back into his life, she'd slowly drained the horny douchebag right from his soul. It had been a long and hard fight, but he'd finally succumbed to a life of servitude as her husband-slash-bitch, and he didn't know how the fuck to act around other women at this point, since all he'd ever used them for were desperate attempts to get laid. He reasoned he'd figure that shit out later, however, because he'd been at that damned bar for nearly two hours and Lydia had been nowhere in sight.

"Where ya at, Mrs. Juice?" he mumbled to himself, slowly making his way through the crowd, hoping against hope that he'd find her and coerce her into leaving soon. Of course, when he finally spotted her, he had to hold back the urge to grab hold of her little ass and drag her out.

Lydia was standing with a drink in her hand, a smile on her face, and some nerdy looking fuck talking to her. Alone.

Fighting against the urge to storm up to her, he calmed himself, instead casually stumbling up to her and placing an arm around her shoulder to get the point across. "Hey, Babe. You still havin' fun?" he asked, trying his best to appear harmless.

"Yeah! Hey, BJ, this is Anthony. He used to be a journalist. I was just telling him about my living years as an editor." she smiled, turning back to the geeky fucker.

Against his own wishes, Beetle could feel his shitty emotions getting the better of him. Why the fuck did she have to chat up some dude? Wasn't he good enough? Why did this shit always happen whenever he let her out of his sight? He began to debate whether that weird pill was so ominous, after all. Maybe he needed something to calm his ass down, before he attempted to juice the puny shitstain to Saturn.

"Uh...Sounds great..." he muttered, juicing yet another alcoholic beverage into his hand as he discreetly snaked his free hand into his pocket and grabbed hold of the potential disaster he was willing to place into his mouth. He figured, what the hell? If the pill didn't fuck him up, his temper would, and his pissy mood was already a done deal, so he'd have better chances with Ms. Fake Can's mystery substance. Hell, it was better than blowing up, which he was technically on the verge of right about now. Pretending to yawn, he popped the pill in his mouth and took his beer arm away from Lydia to wash it down.

Instantly, he questioned his decision. Beetle reasoned that the night would probably end in disaster like most things he'd attempted, so he promptly ignored that strange, sinking feeling in his gut. Since when did he give a shit, anyway? He mused on that question for a bit, watching Lydia laugh at what could only be described as skinny Gerald two point zero. Then he realized that Lydia had a cute laugh. For some reason that observation became highly important.

"Heh...Ya got a cute laugh, Babe." he began to feel himself grin like a dope, instantly questioning if he'd actually said that out loud.

"Oh. Thanks, BJ." Lydia said, giving him a strange glance, before turning back to that guy that he didn't give a shit about.

Beetle stood there a moment, noticing how that insufferable electronica music had suddenly seemed a little more tolerable. He smirked, taking a slosh of his beer and gazing up at the palm trees covered in party lights shaped like little pineapples. Yeah, those were kinda neat too. He watched a group of people getting trashed and dancing out on the beach, noting how that looked pretty damned fun, now that he thought of it. Why hadn't he realized all that shit before? Hell, maybe this party wouldn't be so bad, after all.


	7. Ignorance is Bliss

Chapter 7: Ignorance Is Bliss

Beetlejuice snaked his arm back over Lydia's shoulder, attempting to listen to the words coming out of her mouth, but not really hearing or giving a fuck what they meant. He looked her friend up and down, then looked back to Lydia. The dweeby fucker had been talking some shit about writing for a magazine or whatever, so he decided to liven the conversation up by simply hijacking it. Yeah, that seemed like a great idea right now for some reason.

"Heya, Antwon..." he began, as the man shot him a puzzled look.

"Oh, it's Anthony," he chuckled nervously.

"Yeah, that's what I meant..." Beetle continued to interrupt. "How long you guys known each other?"

"Uh, not very long. We actually just met very recently." he answered, clearing his throat and appearing nervous, which was kind of funny, now that Beetle actually noticed it.

"Lydia ever tell ya how _we_ met?" Beetlejuice raised an eyebrow, turning his gaze to his wife, who seemed to be stunned by the question.

"No. I haven't," Lydia glared, quite possibly into his soul. Now, normally he'd react in holy terror from that look, but he kind of enjoyed it tonight. She was all kinds of hot when she was angry.

"I'd love to hear it, " her sniveling little friend chimed in, and instead of wanting to burst him into flames, Beetle actually felt the urge to tell what was quite possibly the love story of the ages.

"Well, Andy, It goes somethin' like this..." Beetlejuice began.

"It's Anthony!" Lydia snapped, looking all sexy and irritated.

"S'what I said!" he corrected her outburst. "Ya know, it all started during mah business days. I was the Neitherworld's number one bio-exorcist!"

"You were the only one." Lydia remarked, rolling her eyes.

"Anyone ever tell ya yer hot when yer pissed?" he blurted out. Or thought it. Either way, he continued. "So, we made a business deal...Lookin' back it was funny as hell, really...Remember, Babe? Ole' Adam and Barbara were more shriveled up than ninety year old balls! And I had tah save 'em? HAHAHA!"

"Yeah, you were quite the businessman..." Lydia muttered, folding her arms and averting her eyes from Ashton or whoever.

"Anyway, the deal was that we she'd have tah marry-"

"I-It's not important!" Lydia yipped, her eyes wide. "Just boring legal stuff. Anyway, it was great talking with you, Anthony." She grabbed Beetle by the arm, dragging him away. When they were off to themselves, she shot him a look of disbelief. "What is wrong with you?! That's between us! We don't need to tell everyone all the crazy shit we did!" she scolded him, looking embarrassed.

"What's wrong with it, Babe? Seems pretty fuckin' hilarious tah me!" he grinned widely, feeling really awesome right about now. He was pretty sure a sledgehammer to the nuts couldn't break his mood at the moment. That stripper carried some good shit on her.

"No, it's not!" Lydia scolded him quietly, trying not to make a scene. "That was a nightmare, you dope! If you're so worried about looking like a scumbag, you sure aren't showing it...What's gotten into you?"

"I'm just enjoyin' mahself, Babe! Ya know, at first, I fuckin' hated this lame-ass party. I thought I'd been to discount strip joints that were better than this shit. I mean, with yer dumb friends, and the terrible music and mingling shit...All that lame stuff you like...But, I think I had a change ah heart!" he rambled, feeling like everything was just getting more and more awesome feeling by the second.

"What?" Lydia's expression changed. She appeared distraught, but Beetle reasoned there was no fucking way she'd be sad with all the awesome trippy lights and music and shit. It was probably his imagination. "Is that what you think?"

"C'mon, Babe! Don't play dumb! Yah know I hate most of the shit yah like! I mean, ya like a lot a stupid crap. Not that that's a bad thing, Babe. Can't help what ya enjoy, no matter how fuckin' retarded it is. Now...I gotta' say...I had muh doubts, but this shit's actually pretty awesome!" he continued, just letting all the words run out of his mouth unfiltered cause that seemed like a fucking wonderful idea right now. Yep.

"Are you okay?" her face twisted up in what appeared to be confusion, and that too, was amusing as hell for some reason.

"Never been better, Babe!" he exclaimed, eyeing her up and down. Man, she was looking good right now."Heya...You're lookin' reeeaaaal nice, Babe. Wanna go hide somewhere and bang? I'm sure Kevin won't mind. The dude's practically got his dick hanging out of those coochie cutters. I doubt he's too reserved for that shit." he sniggered, finding that, too, to be hilarious. "Hell, he's probably under the table motorboatin' ole Antonio's ballsack right now!"

"It's Alejandro, and no, he's right behind you..." Lydia groaned, as Beetle turned to lock eyes with none other than a scowling Kevin.

"Excuse me?" Kevin asked, clearly not looking amused with what he'd heard. "Do you have some sort of issue we need to discuss, BJ? I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

"Heh...Nah, yah heard me loud an' clear, buddy!" Beetlejuice snorted, slapping his leg.

"BJ! Stop it! You need to apologize for that shit, now! You're acting like an asshole!" Lydia began to fume.

"Why?! I'm just jokin' around, Babe! See, look at Kevin!" he said, pointing to her friend's sour expression. "He LOVES it! By the way," Beetle continued, placing an arm around Kevin's shoulder, "this party is fuckin' great, man! All the lame shit aside, it's legit."

"BJ..." Lydia shook her head. "I think we should go..."

"Nah, Mrs. Juice. I'm only gettin' started!" he said, feeling an urge to join the group of dancing partygoers on the beach. He held out his arm to Lydia. "C'mon, Baby!"

"No." she spat, her face full of anger, for some reason he couldn't possibly fathom.

"The hell, Babe? Ya tell me I don't go around yer stupid friends enough, then ya don't wanna party with me when I get here. Psshh, women..." he cackled. "Kevin? You wanna grind that man taint on mah leg again? I'll let ya. Hell, I'd slap mah dong against cactus right now if I could." he thought, or maybe he actually said that out loud. He wasn't so sure. Oh well.

"Um, Lydia. I think you need to take your husband home." Kevin stated, folding his arms.

"Whatever." Beetle smirked. "Babe, you sure you ain't in the mood?"

"Okay, BJ. Home. NOW!" Lydia huffed, then turning to her big, gay friend. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into his ass."

"I'll see you later, Lydia." Kevin nodded, ignoring her mopey ass attempt to apologize.

"Yah see? Even Kevin doesn't like yer apologizin' shit! HAHAHAHAHA! Told ya that stuff sucked balls!" Beetle burst out into maniacal laughter. Damn everything was just so unquestionably entertaining right now!

"I'm going." Lydia muttered, shaking her head.

"Bye, Dollface. I'm stayin'. Got tah get mah groove on, Babe! It' s too fuckin' great in here to stop now." he said, feeling his ass drawn to the crowd more than ever now.

"So you're not coming home?" Lydia frowned.

"Nope. Gonna live it up, Babe. Been too miserable lately, anyway. Fuckin' marriage stuff's a real mood killer, ya know? Time to cut loose!" he grinned widely, beginning to shimmy away from her.

Lydia scowled deeply. "Fine, then. Fuck you."

_Fuck? _Fuck HIM? Did she say the magic words? Maybe his prayers had been answered! He turned around, clasping his hands together and running back up to her, preparing to beg for it like there was no tomorrow. "Oh, god yes! Please, do Babe! I'ts been too loooooong! Ahm dyin' here! Yer poor husband needs some puss-"

And before he could spit the word out, he was met with a hard slap to the face, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground flat on his ass.


	8. Aftershock

Chapter 8: Aftershock

Beetle woke up, spitting out a mouthful of sand, since he'd apparently been sleeping face down in it.

"Ugh...What the...?" he mumbled, feeling everything spinning at such a rapid pace that he thought he'd hurl. When he finally gained enough wits about himself to sit up, he realized he was in nothing but his ratty old boxers, laying amidst a trail of beer bottles and burnt out smokes.

He staggered up, squinting hard from the sunlight as other residents of Paradise walked by him, gawking.

"The fuck're you all lookin' at?!" he snarled, causing some to quickly turn their heads, as he juiced some clothes back on. He looked about himself, noting that all traces of last night's party were no longer there, save for his own shit strewn about. Also nowhere to be found was Lydia. "Oh shit..." he winced, scratching the back of his head. What the fuck happened? The last thing he remembered was popping that mystery drug shit. Probably not his brightest moment, he decided with instant regret.

"Are you finally going to leave now?" a manly voice chimed in from behind him. He turned to see Kevin standing in a pink track suit, pulling his shades down and shooting him a disgusted look.

"Uh, yeah...What did I do last night?" Beetle asked, bracing himself for whatever moronic stunts he'd managed to pull off.

"You danced out here all night after Lydia left. After everyone left. You kept dancing. The music was off, BJ." he placed his hand on his hip, apparently not amused.

"Fuck." Beetle slapped his forehead, knowing that Lydia would never just leave him somewhere unless he'd done something completely idiotic and screwed things up, which is exactly what he knew he'd done. "Oh, she's pissed. I'm fuckin'dead..."

"Lydia left here crying last night. So you'd better go fix that." Kevin warned, shooing him away. Apparently, Beetle had pissed him off too.

"Look, whatever I did, I didn't mean-"

"Al and I may be a joke to you, but at least I can say I don't treat him like you treat your wife. No wonder she's so unhappy..." Kevin took his final dig, before turning and walking away, leaving Beetlejuice to wonder just how bad he'd actually behaved. He sighed, stumbling back toward his home.

* * *

Beetlejuice braced himself, gently opening the front door of his hut, expecting to see Lydia passed out again in her usual spot. However, she wasn't there. He quietly searched from room to room, rubbing his aching head as he did so. The place was empty, so he quietly made his way up to the balcony, where he saw Lydia standing in her robe and nightgown, the ocean breeze blowing her long, tangled hair about. She looked like she'd had a rough night, and it was certainly all thanks to him.

He didn't speak, for the current coming from her was thick with sadness and despair, causing him to fear even opening his trap. She felt his presence in the air, looking over her shoulder at him, before gazing back to the ocean. Her big brown eyes were full of pain and hurt, causing him to feel sick at himself. He still said nothing, simply walking up beside her and propping his arms on the rails.

After a long period of silence, he finally spoke. "I really messed up this time, didn't I?"

Lydia didn't reply for a long time, and that was unnerving as hell. Even in her worst moods, she nearly always had some smart ass remark or way to reprimand him. Now, however, she seemed to have no fight at all.

"Did you really mean all that?" she asked softly, finally breaking the awful silence between them.

Beetlejuice rubbed the back of his moldy neck, wondering just what the hell he'd said in the first place. "Uh...What did I say?"

"You basically called everything about me ridiculous, to summarize." she stated, this time with a bit of venom in her voice.

"Babe, I was completely trashed. I didn't know what fuckin' planet I was on. I was talkin' outta mah head. No, I didn't mean it. I can assure you, that whatever I said was the product of about ten gallons of alcohol and some weird pill your buddy Al's stripper sister gave me. So...yeah, you can tell me I'm a moron now." he shrugged, waiting to be hit against the head, or possibly the groin, with a heavy object of some sort.

Lydia sighed. "Sounds about right..."

Beetle paused a moment, feeling weird about blacking out. "Just what did I do last night?"

"First, you hated the party. Then you went to the bar for a couple of hours and came back drunk. You tried to air all your dirty laundry to my friend, then you went crazy and started insulting everyone until I slapped you in the face. Then you proceeded to go dance in your underwear. I left, so I have no idea what else you did." she explained, not looking the least bit amused. "So basically, you took the one thing I wanted you to do, and you shit all over it, just like you do everything else."

Okay, now he felt like a complete douche nozzle. "Look, Babe, I'm sorry."

"Oh no you don't. You're always telling me to stop apologizing. You're always telling me how stupid it is. Well, now I'm telling you to stop. It doesn't matter anyway. You're not really sorry, or you wouldn't make it a point to make me feel so terrible over everything I love. No. Sorry doesn't cut it. Not this time." she scowled, her eyes piercing him hard enough to wonder if it was getting hot outside or if she was actually trying to burst him into flames with her mind.

"Babe, I really was tryin'! I swear! It was that fuckin' pink pill that broad gave me! I told ya!" he pleaded, now feeling real fuckin' concerned, given she had that fed up look on her face.

"It's called ecstasy, BJ! Why the hell did you take it in the first place?!" she began to raise her voice, and he felt himself cower just a little under that evil little Medusa stare she had going on. "And how could someone like YOU not know what it does? Don't play innocent with me..."

"Hey, now!" Beetle threw up his hands defensively. "I'm not playin' innocent! I'm old school, Babe! If ya can't smoke it or drink it, I don't fuck with it."

"OH PLEASE!" Lydia fumed. "You told me you once snorted coke off a hooker's ass cheeks!"

"Okay, OR snort it..." Beetle muttered like a scolded little bitch. "The point is, I don't take that raving hipster crap! It's fer pussies anyway!"

"That doesn't help your case, you moron!" Lydia shouted. "So why did you do it?!"

"Eh...Well, ya see, I was tryin' to be sociable and not a dickwad. Thought it could help, Babe..." he mumbled, realizing she looked like she wanted to bite his face off. Yeah, that wasn't good.

"Oh, I see. It was Anthony, wasn't it? You never want to see me happy around anyone else, let alone another guy! It doesn't matter if you took something or not, BJ! You can't be happy with me, and you won't let me be happy either! You can't just take shit for what it is! You've always got to control me or make me miserable just to get your damned way! Well, guess what? Kevin doesn't want us around right now, so there! You got what you wanted. You may as well just tell Gerald off again, while your at it...Oh, and don't forget Juno! You hate her so I know you don't want me talking to her!" She yelled at him, causing him to wince under the truth of what she was saying. "What's next?! Are you gonna chain the door shut again so I don't step outside? Let's not kid ourselves, I love my family, but if they were here, you'd never let me have any peace either...You don't want me to see them. You don't want me to see anybody but YOU!" she seethed, stepping away from him and heading down the stairway. She turned one final time, looking over her shoulder. Her eyes were red and brimming with tears. "You're not fooling me, BJ. I'm not really your wife. I'm still your fucking prisoner." she said, her voice quivering, before she stormed down the stairs.

He heard the bedroom door slam shut, causing him to wince. He stood for a long moment, staring at the space Lydia had just been standing in. He then slowly walked back to the balcony and wiped his face in his hands, realizing just how serious this shit was. It had taken all those years just to get her, and now he was crippling her with his own self-loathing. It was only a matter of time before she left his ass for good, if it wasn't already too late. Who was he kidding? How many years had they been fighting now? Just how long had he been lying to her time and again, saying he'd work on his shit, only for him to ultimately ignore or fuck up her requests? How long had he taken her for granted? Now he was truly terrified. His slip ups were getting more frequent and more costly. He really needed to keep the secret about her family away from her now, or he was pretty sure she'd really leave his ass this time.

"What the blue fuck have I done...?" he groaned, holding his face in his hands. Was he too late already?


	9. Hairy Moles and Past Regrets

Chapter 9: Hairy Moles and Past Regrets

Beetle walked along the moonlit shore, cigar in hand, heading toward the nearest bar he could find to drown his sorrows. Shit had been absolutely miserable that day. Lydia had been cooped up in the bedroom the whole time, simultaneously being depressed and fucking scary as hell, and he sure as shit wasn't about to walk in there and get another dose of her wrath, even if it was well deserved. Given the current level of shittiness that currently was stinking up his marriage, he felt he had little left to do other than revert to his old ways. At least he'd have several sloppy drunks, depressed old shits, and bar flies to keep him company.

Finally, after much stewing and angsty sand-kicking, he made it to a bright, neon sign with a picture of a busty female pirate that read "The Booty Hole". He snorted at said sign briefly, before flicking away his smoke and heading inside.

Upon entering, he noted that the place was pretty nice compared to most of the dumpster fire bars he'd frequented in the Neitherworld. It was relatively clean, had a nice little pirate ship theme going on, and didn't have that vaguely depressing bodily fluid odor the others did. All in all, it was an acceptable place to drown his sorrows.

He stepped up to a small table with an anchor etched in it, seating himself until an older woman dressed up like a naughty pirate came up to him. "What'll it be, hun?"

"Er...Ya got anything _real_ strong?" he raised a brow.

"Sure. We have plenty. Can I get you-"

"Just get me one of the strongest drinks ya got. Uh, make that two." he said, cutting her off. He then eyed his surroundings, noting that there were a lot of losers in this joint. Some were already too drunk to walk, others were old depressed fuckers like himself, and there were plenty of ugly bar skanks to boot. It almost made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, seeing a bunch of gross, dumb fucks he could relate to, drinking away their misery. He was pretty sure a few of these dipshits were glitched to Paradise just like he was. No way in hell were angels that damned ugly.

When the waitress came back bringing his drinks, he smiled devilishly. "Thanks, Toots." he said, before starting on his first one. It was actually pretty fucking nice to be back in his element for once, without all Lydia's unwanted friends fucking up everything. _Fucking Kevin, _he thought bitterly, scowling and taking another swig to wash his thoughts away. Since when was a gay guy with his balls practically dangling out of his booty shorts such an uptight prick? Was everyone at his little party too stupid to realize he was just wasted and talking out his ass? _Apparently, _Beetle mused.

He sighed, rubbing his aching head. In truth, Kevin's pathetic little party was only the tip of the giant, middle-finger shaped iceburg. Honestly, as much as Beetle didn't want to aknowledge it, things had been going south for a long time now. He'd fucked up time and again. It wasn't all at once. Either way, something was going to have to give, because he could feel Lydia's rotten mood in the air still, gripping at his insides.

Distracted by his angsty inner-workings, his head whipped up in surprise, as a woman in a tavern dress slid a chair up to him. She appeared to be about his age, with curly brown hair, and corpse-like, freckled skin. "Heya...You look reeeaaal familiar..." the woman said, and surprisingly, the hag actually sounded vaguely familiar to him.

Beetle narrowed his eyes. "Do I know you?"

The woman shrugged, smirking. "Maybe ya do, maybe ya don't. What's a guy like you doin' in a place like this?"

Okay, shit was feeling real uncomfortable right about now. He took another drink of alcohol to try and drown out his uneasiness. "The fuck does it look like? Drinkin', what else?" he snapped, the woman's strange familiarity causing him to feel agitated. She looked so damned familiar, but he couldn't quite place that buck-toothed face of hers.

The woman cackled, calling the waitress over and ordering more drinks, much to his dismay. What the fuck was she trying?

"Still an asshole, I see." she chuckled. "Ya haven't changed a bit."

"Alright, alright! Enough of this cryptic shit!" Beetle snapped, already tired of this broad and her games. "Apparently yer ass knows me. Just tell me who the fuck you are an' get on with it! If not, you can kindly go take a fuckin' hike..."

"You really don't remember me do ya?" the woman grew serious for a split second, seeming to be offended by his ability to simultaneously not remember and flat out not give two fucks.

Beetlejuice shot her his best get the fuck on with it look, while shaking his head and tapping his grimy nails on the table just to get the point across that he didn't have all damned night.

"I'm Annie, remember? Annie Weschire?!" she asked, in some attempt to jog his mind.

Whatever she was trying to do, it wasn't working. "I think ya got the wrong guy..." he muttered, taking another swig from his drink.

Evidently, this pissed her off. She scowled hard. "Don't play dumb, Pigsticker! You were always a liar..."

Holy shit, this bitch must've known his ass in the Plague days! "Woah, woah! Hold up!" he raised his voice, holding his hands up. "Okay, fine! I must know yer ass somehow. How do ya know me?"

"I was with your father, LaRou!" she exclaimed. "Do ya remember me now?"

Finally, the lightbulb went off, and that set off a chain reaction of all kinds of pissed off inside of him. "My ole' man, eh?" he grinned deviously, grabbing the collar of her dress and pulling it down enough to expose that notoriously hairy mole on her neck he'd come to know so well. "I shoulda known yer raggedy ass would pop up again..."

She scowled, smacking his hand away. "Hands off, Pigsticker! Don't be gettin' grabby!"

"Heh...Wouldn't _dream _of it..." he scoffed, feeling the urge to juice the nasty twat to Saturn just for bothering him. "At least not after ya started bangin' my pops. Kinda ruined that shit fer me, ya knowwhaddimean? How is that bastard, anyway? Haven't seen him since the day I took the plunge." he remarked, partly curious, partly just to change the subject.

"I dunno..." she mused, fiddling with a button on her dress nervously. "Last thing I heard he was in Purgatory when I was still in the Neitherworld. Then out of nowhere I got an acsension summons, and that was that. I haven't seen your father in ages."

"Purgatory, eh?" Beetle rubbed his chin, grinning maliciously. "Ya surprised the shit outta me! I would have placed mah bets on Hell, but eh, what do I know?"

"He wasn't _that_ bad, LaRou. He had his good moments." she said, defending the nutheaded meat sack like she always did.

Beetle glared, unimpressed with her need to randomly pop back into his realm of existence and torment his ass. "Would those moments consist of his hairy, naked ballsack slappin' yer ass, Annie?!" he seethed, completely pissed that this crazy bitch was creating more annoyance on top of the massive problems he'd already had.

"NO!" she fumed, glaring back at him. "Don't play the victim, Pigsticker! You already had your eyes on my sister anyway. I knew how you were. Out with those tavern whores every chance ya could get! Gettin' slapped by every respectable woman in town! Couldn't be faithful if ya tried!" she spat. "I was just moving out of the way for ya."

"Oh, fuck me!" he griped, wiping a hand down his face. Why the fuck did this shit matter now? Why was he even entertaining this clusterfuck? "It was for the dowry, Annie. Good god. Ya think I'd actually bang that witch? She's even scarier than yer ass! Hell, I took the money and ran with it!"

"I know, ya selfish prick! You broke her heart. She believed all that wooin' ya did, LaRou. She thought she was the love of your life." Annie stated, bringing the conversation to that inevitable low point that he fucking hated with a passion.

"Ya mean that wart-faced hag actually had feelings? She was mean as hell!" he deflected, secretly knowing the truth.

"That's bollocks and you know it. I don't think her getting angry over your drunken thievery was being mean. You were just an asshole." she explained, folding her arms and glaring at him.

"Er..." he paused, rubbing the back of his moldy neck uncomfortably. "She ever get married, er what?"

"Eventually. An older man with a little farm just outside of the village. Took a while, though. You caused her a lot of heartache with that little stunt, LaRou." she scolded, equally making him feel like a douchebag and pissing him off due to her hypocrisy.

"Yeah, I know I'm a bastard, but you ain't no better, so you can go preach it to the choir." he growled, finishing his drink and slamming it on the table. "You were the one screwin' around with me the whole time, Sugartits." he grinned malevolently, enjoying watching her squirm with discomfort upon hearing his words.

"Yeah, well...You were _persuasive_..." she smirked, beginning to eye him up and down.

"Well, not anymore I ain't." he grinned, twisting the wedding band on his finger for her to see. "So don't go gettin' any ideas, Toots. Ain't happenin'." He declared, remembering all too well how manipulative and skanky that broad was. She didn't run with his crowd for no reason. They were all horny, lecherous dickwads.

The women's face grew sour. "And what unfortunate woman did you trick into marrying your ass?"

"None ah yer business!" he huffed, his face twisting in anger. "She _chose_ to marry my ass. I didn't have to trick her."

Annie sneered, raising an eyebrow. "Bet she's ugly as sin."

Beetle grinned widely, her jealousy amusing him to no end. Served her right for running off with his old man. "Bet yer wrong." he answered, making sure to be extra smug about it.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You're probably lying, anyway. There's no way a woman could stomach your rotten ass that long."

Okay, now she was just being a bitch. "Why do you give a shit, anyway?"

Annie smirked. "I don't."

"Then why don't ya go fuck off?" he growled, his patience growing thinner by the second.

"Fine. I will." she shrugged, swishing the last bit of her drink in the bottle. "I just thought ya might want to have some fun again, for old times sake. Ring or not, happily married men don't go out to bars at night alone."

Beeltejuice paused, narrowing his eyes in on her smug expression. He may not have been happy, but he wasn't about to dip it in _that. _He wasn't that damned stupid. "Ain't gonna work."

"Fine. Suit yourself, Pigsticker." she remarked, standing up. She then paused, before looking down at him. "You must really like this one. I've never known you to refuse."

"You have no idea..." he shook his head, as she walked away.

Beetle then followed her with his eyes, feeling fucking wierd about the whole conversation. He hadn't planned on ever seeing anyone from his actual life again, but he figured it was probably inevitable. He'd just never really given it much thought, due to the fact that zero fucks were given in the first place. However, his eyebrow raised when he caught sight of a woman on the other end of the bar. Her back was facing him, so he began to study her for a moment. Her long, dark hair had caught his attention, as did her pale white skin.

"Lydia? What the fuck is she doin' out here?" he stood, a sinking feeling hitting his insides.


	10. The Search

Chapter 10: The Search

Beetle stepped up behind her, feeling a mixture of uneasiness and anger brimming just beneath the surface, though he made sure not to elude to that fact. What the fuck was she doing out here? Why did she sneak away from him? He knew his own motivations, but he wasn't so sure of hers.

"Babe, whaddaya doin'?" he asked as calmly as possible, standing behind her.

Of course, when she whipped around, Beetle completely recoiled in shock. This chick, who was clearly Lydia, was not actually Lydia at all. Though she looked a hell of a lot like her, and that was scary as fuck. She was older, and now that he'd actually paid full attention, she was actually a very dark brunette. She was a bit taller, and less petite than Lydia. She was also less hot in general, but she was still hot to an unfairly high degree, so that was fucking unnerving. This was some real Twilight Zone shit.

"Uh...My bad. Thought ya were someone else..." he mumbled, backing away and feeling sort of sick and awkward. Of course, before he could get completely away, the woman reached for him, grabbing his forearm and causing him to nearly shriek.

"Wait! You thought I was someone else? Is there someone who looks like me around here?" she asked, her voice much lower than Lydia's, which was also pretty damned bizarre.

He tensed, wondering just what this woman was getting at. "Uh...Nah, not that I'm aware of." he answered awkwardly, not wanting to say that she was nearly a complete replica of his wife.

"Oh. Well, have you seen this girl?" she asked, pulling out a picture of none other than Lydia from her jacket pocket. The photo was obviously from when Lydia was just a girl, but it was her all the same.

Beetle could feel his eye visibly twitch. "Uh, this yer...?"

"Daughter. Her name's Lydia Deetz. I got a letter years ago saying she'd made it to Paradise. I've been searching for her ever since. I've tried to contact her time and time again, but I just can't get through to her. It's like something is stopping me. I thought I'd find her by now." the woman sighed, staring longingly at the photo before placing it neatly inside her pocket once more.

Feeling beyond wary, Beetle chose to do what he was best at. He simply lied like a motherfucker. "Nope. 'Fraid I ain't seen her."

"Okay." the woman sighed, smiling sadly, before turning to her glass of wine. "Thanks for your time."

Beetle stood there a moment, partly dumbfounded, but mostly needing more answers for this strange turn of events. He needed to make sure Lydia wouldn't find this out, at least for now. Hell, he was already hiding the rest of her family from her, he may as well add another check to the list.

"So...Uh, how long have ya been in these parts?" he raised an eyebrow, before inviting himself to sit across from her.

"Oh, I've been here for decades now. Heart attack, the silent killer." She shrugged, smirking and making him feel very strange. Even her maneurisms were similar to Lydia's. "How about you?"

"Me? A glitch got my ass here. Citizen of the Neitherworld for some six glorious centuries. Needless tah say, I don't miss that shit." he grumbled.

"So, how did you die?" she continued. Now he knew where Lydia got that god awful nosey shit from.

"Eh...drowning. Not a fan of it." he smirked, secretly wondering just how much he could get out of her. "Uh...You close to her?"

"Oh, Lydia? We were very close. Her father and I got divorced, so we shared custody and I saw her a lot less than I'd like to. Then the heart attack happened. She was away, so she didn't have to witness it, at least. I haven't seen her since." she explained, her voice thick with sadness.

"That shit sucks." he said, feigning sympathy. "You come from far off?"

"Yes. I live quite a distance from this place. I'm actually leaving this area in a week. I'm going to look everywhere I possibly can, then move on. I'll go door to door if I have to. I'm pretty desperate at this point." she admitted, her brown eyes glossing over.

"Yeah...Guess you are..." he mumbled, secretly not happy to hear that she'd comb the place over with such detail. That wasn't good. He scratched his head, feeling lower than ever. It was as if the Powers That Be opened up their monstrous bowels from above and shit a massive pile of guilt directly on his ass as of late. He couldn't get away from this awful shit. "Well, uh...Good luck an' all. Hope ya find what yer lookin' for." He lied blatantly, hoping she'd actually get the fuck away and not come anywhere near his wife. Just how did he not know about her? He'd known about everyone else in her family. Lydia didn't really talk about her much, so maybe it was an oversight.

"Thanks..." she nodded, half smiling, as Beetle awkwardly left her as quickly as his old, drunken ass could muster.

* * *

He stepped outside of the bar, quickly lighting up a smoke and sucking on it hard to calm his frayed nerves. He pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering just where the fuck he'd went wrong. Maybe it was when he'd decided to become jealous of every dude that Lydia came into contact with, or when he projected his own self-loathing onto everything, or when he'd secretly destroyed those letters time and again. It could've been how he'd just lied to her own mother about her whereabouts, which sure as shit wouldn't blow over well if Lydia ever found out. Not to mention his old tormentors were floating around randomly, ready to tell him what a prick he'd been when he was alive. And of course, he'd ruined the party and pissed off Lydia's beloved _Kevin _on top of everything else. Shit was fucked up. BAD.

"I'm in deep shit..." he muttered to himself, realizing that the only place he could really go was back home to his royally pissed spouse. Everywhere he turned, problem after problem arose, and shit was getting harder to cover up by the day. He felt things would be at breaking point soon, so he had to make a decision. If everyone else was popping up, then it was only a matter of time before Chuckie and his gang would be running into them. Lydia was far from stupid, so she'd figure it all out soon enough.

He inhaled deeply, blowing smoke into writhing RIP signs in the night sky. This was it. He was going to go home and do something about it before it was too late.


	11. Coming Clean (A Little)

Chapter 11: Coming Clean (A Little)

Beetle stood before the door of his home, his head hanging low, blowing smoke toward the ground and feeling nervous as hell. He flicked his cigarette away, grabbing the door knob and slowly turning it. It was now or later, so he decided he'd rather have a choice in the matter.

The inside of the hut was dark and gloomy, in contrast to the Paradise he and Lydia were supposed to be enjoying. Thing was, they weren't. They weren't even remotely happy, and he knew he was mostly to blame for it.

He quietly stepped up to the bedroom door, pressing his ear against it and listening for any movement. When nothing but silence answered, he exhaled in relief, before heading to his hiding spot. He followed the staircase up to the balcony, detecting his miniature wormhole hidden therein.

"Here goes nuthin'..." he sighed, removing the glittering envelopes and closing the portal forever.

* * *

The door to their bedroom whined open, as he eyed the pale moonlight coming in through the window. There Lydia was, face down with an empty beer bottle loosely in her grasp. Beetle clutched the letters behind his back even tighter, grimacing at how visibly miserable she'd become as of late.

He quietly walked over and seated himself on the edge of the bed beside her, gently pulling the bottle from her grasp. He placed it on the floor and moved her black, tangled locks away from her face. She didn't deserve this. None of it.

Why did he have to be such a fuck up? In truth, he cared for Lydia to a point that scared even himself. It gave her power over him that he couldn't explain. She always hated that he'd called her perfect, but he wasn't lying about that. She was. She was the kindest, smartest, most genuine person he'd ever known, and he was pretty much the polar opposite of most of that shit. Not to mention she was stunning to a point that would cause a blind man to gawk at her, while he on the other hand, looked nothing short of a pile of hot garbage. Ever since she'd come back into his life, he felt an uncanny pull to her. How could he not? He'd fought it for years, and much to his dismay, he fought things the hardest when his ass was lucky enough to actually be with her. When he really thought about it, he never really thought he even deserved her.

When he remembered those days after she'd saved his ass by wiping his criminal record clean, he really couldn't bring himself to even be with her. Her act was so selfless, and after he'd been such a raging asshat to her. He held her own family hostage, for fuck's sake! The same family that he was currently lying to her about. The same family that would castrate his ass, if given the chance. If it wasn't for her insistance, he'd have never gotten back with Lydia in the first place. Even now, he found himself wondering if that was his wisest choice.

He eyed the letters in his hand, watching the glitter reflect in the night. He was basically in shock that she'd even consider his ass, and of course he wouldn't turn the chance of a lifetime down. If anything was truly Paradise, it was being with her. It would have stayed that way too, if it wasn't for his damn insecurities. Over time, doubt creeped in. Why would she stay with a fuckwad like him forever? Maybe the curse had really messed with her brain after all, because no woman in their right mind would stay with a shitstain like him. Hell, he hadn't even been remotely good to her. Why the fuck _did_ she stay? Strange paradoxes like that plagued him more than anything.

Then one by one, the glances of strangers, her time spent away from him, and her newfound friends all morphed from simple annoyances to complete threats. He was such a dirtbag, anyone could potentially steal her away, and he wasn't having that shit. Now that he had her, the fear of losing her seemed to be his own personal hell, right there in Paradise.

Of course, now his fear had gotten ridiculously out of hand, and it was making Lydia more miserable than she'd ever been. Now, he had no choice but to take the risk of letting more threats back into his afterlife. It was either this, or really lose her. He couldn't do that. He didn't know what the fuck he'd do without her.

"What are you doing?" Lydia's sleepy, irritated voice caused him to jump up in surprise.

"I...uh...need to talk to ya, Babe." he forced himself to begin, nearly choking on his words. Damn, he did NOT want to do this shit!

She yawned, sitting up in the bed and hugging her legs close to her. "What is it?" she asked with a wary look etched on her features.

"First of all, I didn't mean to fuck up yer party thing..." he admitted.

She glared. "Look, I already told you-"

"I know. I know." he threw up his hands defensively, interrupting her possible verbal onslaught session. "I'm not tryin' to give a half-assed apology. I'm just sayin' I didn't intend to act like such a prick. I've been a selfish dick, an' I know it. I shouldn't take a shit on everything ya like. Yer a hell of a lot more interestin' than me. I ain't got room to talk." he explained, and somehow by the grace of the Powers That Be, that seemed to stave off her raging fits. "But that ain't what I need to talk to ya about. I, uh, found somethin' while I was out." He then inhaled deeply, handing all four letters over to her. "They're addressed to you."

"What are they?" she asked, eyeing them cautiously.

"Dunno. Open 'em and see." he shrugged, pretending not to know what god awful fate awaited him. "Well, I'm gonna leave ya to yerself. I'll be sleepin' on the couch if ya need me." he resigned, leaving her as her uncertain eyes skimmed over the first letter.

* * *

Beetle laid back on the seashell shaped sofa, smoking a cigar and trying to pull himself together. That shit was dreadful as hell, and waiting for Lydia's response was the cherry on top of the fuck you sundae that was currently his state of mind. Even if her relatives came with a lynch mob, maybe Lydia herself would be able to tolerate him again, anyway. Besides, she was what really mattered, the rest was a mere footnote. A really shitty, agonizing footnote.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, he heard Lydia creep out of the bedroom.

"BJ?" she spoke, causing him to sit up, nervously fanning his smoke away.

"Yeah, Babe?" he replied, trying to appear clueless to what she'd read.

"These letters..." she began, seating herself next to him. He could see faint traces of tears in her eyes. "It's my family, BJ. They've crossed over to Paradise. They're here."

"Ah..." he said, nonchalantly blowing smoke rings and appearing as indifferent as possible, though inside he was nothing short of livid. Why did shit have to come to this?

"And I already know they hate you and all, but..." she began, while Beetle simultaneously wondered if that sentence could have any worse of a beginning.

"Good phrasing, Babe." he smirked, knowing that this was the first of many tell-tale signs that he was undoubtedly fucked in this situation.

Lydia smiled back, clearly showing her spirits had lifted from the news. "I did sign these. They'll know my location here. You okay with that, BJ?"

"Sure, sure!" he exclaimed, blatantly lying out his ass. He knew Lydia enough to realize this wasn't really a negotiable question. It was more of a test to see if he was going to be a dick about it or not, and he wasn't about to fail this time.

She grinned widely, causing the tension inside him to dissipate just a fraction. Her smile always had that effect, regardless of how shitty his mood currently was. "I know how they'll be, BJ. I'll do my best to defend your honor." she chuckled, causing him to genuinely grin in return.

"Aw, shucks, Babe. Good luck with that. I may end up with my gonads on a pike, but at least I'll know ya tried." he teased, placing his arm around her and squeezing her into his side. At least she seemed over her pissed off spell by this point, so that ws a good start. "Besides," he added suavely for extra browning points, "If it makes ya happy to see 'em, who am I to say no?"

Lydia smiled widely at him, leaning in and softly kissing his lips. He closed his eyes, wishing they could be like this all the time. Maybe, just maybe, if he could survive the contempt of her family, they could stay like this. "Don't think you're off the hook for earlier, BJ." she smirked, as he stared at her intensely, some how hoping against hope that he'd get lucky.

"I can make it up to ya, Babe. I'll show ya how sorry I am..." he leered, placing a moldy hand on her thigh.

"You're not THAT forgiven yet." Lydia snorted.

"Eh, worth a try." he shrugged, defeated. Well, there went that. His boner had died before it even had the chance to live.

"BJ..." Lydia began, her smile fading as he felt the air around himself change. The electric from her began to radiate through him in a way that it hadn't in a long time. It was strong, and its hum was all encompassing.

"Yeah?" he raised a brow, feeling equally curious and strangely elated all of a sudden.

"Thank you for not spazzing out about this. You don't know how much this means to me..." she placed her soft, delicate hand upon his own. Her eyes were glittering with appreciation, and despite the general unpleasantness he knew he was about to endure, this feeling she gave off made it all worth it. Like a thousand fucking times worth it.

"Eh, what can I say? Im a considerate guy." he grinned deviously, knowing that they both knew better than that shit.

Lydia grinned, rolling her eyes. "Well, I guess that's it, then. The instructions say to set them on my doorstep. Here goes nothing." she shrugged, as she stood.

Beetlejuice followed her, watching her set each envelope on the straw welcome mat in front of their home. One by one, they dissipated in a cloud of glittering fog.

"Well..." Beetle chuckled nervously, knowing his fate was sealed and that it was a matter of time before he had to look at the likes of her folks again. Man, shit was gonna be real weird, given the last time he'd spoken to them he was _sort of_ holding them hostage for his own personal gain. Yeah, that'd go over _real _fucking well. "Guess we'll be seein' yer folks soon, Babe."

"Yeah..." she gazed at the fog, which still remained. Her smile began to fade, as she looked back to him, her expression turning somber. "BJ, I have to tell you something."

"Sure, Babe. Shoot." he said, nonchalantly, though he was secretly getting weirded out again. She had that worried expression on her face. Yeah, that shit wasn't good.

"Those letters. They weren't just for dad and the Maitlands." she began.

"Well, yeah. I figured that step-witch took the ole' dirt nap, too." he blurted out, not seeing where she was going.

"Yeah, Delia's coming too, but that's not what I mean, BJ." she continued, rubbing her arm and averting her eyes from him. She seemed real damned uncomfortable right about now, and that was making his ass feel the same.

"Then what?" he grunted, wanting her to spit it out already and spare him the intolerable wait.

"I need to tell you about my mother - my _real _mother." she said, causing him to literally nearly choke on his own spit. How the hell did he not catch that? How did he not realize the obvious? Why did he NOT check all those letters before he'd handed them over to Lydia? Did he not just see that chick earlier? How would she not recognize his ass and determine him to be an immediate lying sack of shit that hid her daughter from her in plain sight? Now what the fuck was he gonna do?

"Fuck me..." he muttered to himself, lost in his own pile of bullshit.

"What?!" Lydia grimaced, obviously confused.

Beetle straightened, trying his best to pull himself together. "I said I'm all ears, Babe."

Yep. He was fucked.


	12. Mom

Chapter 12: Mom

Lydia stared at her feet in the sand, watching the waves lap at the earth beneath them under the large, full moon. The cool breeze blew at her still wild hair, as she brushed it from her face, watching the smoke from Beetlejuice's cigarette dissipate in the air about her.

"So, I haven't really talked about her much..." she began, feeling that sinking sadness in the pit of her stomach.

"Yeah, I don't know jack shit about her." Beetle chimed in for some weird reason, causing her to scowl at him.

"Yes, _I know._" she stated, as he looked off in the distance away from her, blowing little skulls in the air with his smoke. "She divorced my dad when I was really young. She moved on, he moved on."

"Ya mean he downgraded." Beetle snorted, spewing smoke.

Lydia furrowed her brow, feeling very strange. Why would he say that? "How would you know?"

"Uh, I don't." he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He shrugged. "If she looked anything like you Babe, he kinda went from prime steak to fuckin' spam, if ya get mah drift."

Lydia rolled her eyes. God, he was impossible. "I know you don't like Delia. All that's beside the point, BJ. I was staying the week at Dad's when he got the call. She'd had a massive heart attack. They couldn't bring her back." she paused a moment, somehow feeling that tingle of sadness from a lifetime long past. "We never knew anything was even wrong with her..."

"That sucks ass, Babe." he replied, fidgeting about while rubbing the back of his mossy neck. "So uh...Why didn't ya talk about it. Not to be a dickhole, but seems like pretty standard shit to me."

Her first instinct was to punch him in the face for being his usual, prick self and not giving the slightest bit of sensitivety to the matter. On the other hand, he did have a point, and his question did have an answer. It was one that she didn't receive any joy in admitting, but it was the truth. "Well...I was young then. She was the one who filed for divorce. I guess I resented her for that. I tried not to, but I did deep down. I tried to hide it from her. Then she died with a part of me still hating her..." she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

Beetle stood silent, sucking on his smoke, before finally speaking. "Ya still hate her er what?"

"Of course not!" she snapped, feeling a bit ashamed of that part of herself. "I was young and stupid. I was a dumb kid that was angry with her. I didn't know all the details. I just..."

"Wut?" Beetle grunted, in his usual _get the hell on with it _fashion.

"I grew up and I learned better than that. I know shit's complicated. I just hate that I never got a chance to feel different before she left me." she shrugged, traces of long-faded memories of her mother pulsing through her mind.

"Eh, Babe, you were a kid. What can ya expect? I've done a helluva lot worse. Don't beat yerself up over that shit." he said, causing Lydia to smirk in reaction to his attempt at actually giving a fuck.

"You're actually giving reasonable advice, BJ? Should I be worried?" she grinned, watching him glare daggers at her.

"We done here or what?" he snapped, flicking his smoke into the ocean and being generally pissy about her teasing, as usual.

Lydia paused a moment, remembering the reoccuring event that had happened throughout the years that left her feeling a strange longing inside. "There is one other thing..." she began, watching Beetle raise a brow in interest. "I've been hearing a voice..."

"Er, what kinda' voice?" he asked, narrowing his eyes in what seemed to be suspicion. Hopefully this wouldn't cause him to go off on another one of his paranoid tirades. She didn't need his tantrums on top of everything else.

"I can't tell. Sometimes it's just a whisper. Its been calling out to me at night. Sometimes I think it may be her. I think I know it's her, BJ." she admitted, remembering the famililar, feminine energy she'd felt from it from time to time.

"How long you been hearin' this shit?" he asked, his voice somehow laced with strange agitation. Why, she had no idea. She could only sum it up to his volatile, asshole-esque behavior. In other words, it was nothing new, much to her dismay.

"Off and on for years. Why does that matter?" she asked, curious to the source of his paranoid behavior.

"It matters 'cause I'd like to know when some weird voice tries to communicate with yer ass!" he growled, not looking too pleased. "Why don't ya tell me this shit?"

"Because of this, right here!" she retorted, stabbing a finger toward him and making her point loud and clear. Why would she tell him anything she didn't have to? He'd only get pissed off in the end, anyway. This was, quite literally, the sum of so many of her problems with him in the first place. "Can you not right now?!" she huffed, already beginning to feel exhausted just telling him anything remotely important.

He glared at her, before juicing a bottle of booze in his hand. He popped the top of it, before speaking again. "Yeah, well..." he muttered, seeming to back off. "Ya can tell me stuff, Babe. I don't like it when ya keep shit from me..." he admitted, looking away from her.

Lydia started to feel quite pissy at that particular moment. So she promptly decided to fire back. "I'm sure you don't tell me everything you do. Like why you were away earlier tonight? Where did you go?" she began her interrogation, partly just to piss him off, partly out of sheer curiosity. He'd been wandering away for some time now, and it was getting a bit old not knowing just what he was up to.

"Why do ya give a shit where I go?!" he growled, entering full-blown douche mode.

"The same reason you give a shit about all that crazy shit you give a shit about!" she fumed, her anger only rising from his blatant hypocrisy. She glared at him long and hard, waiting for his reply. When he'd given her those letters earlier, things seemed to be moving in the right direction again. Of course, like clockwork, Beetle had gone and decided to act like a dick again. That was the problem. Things with him were never on the upswing for long, without plummeting back down.

He took a big gulp of his beer, then shrugged. "I went out to get some drinks. What's it to ya?"

Lydia inhaled deeply, feeling somehow hurt. Maybe it was the coldness in his voice, or his strange defensiveness, but it made her feel like hot garbage. "Why do you not want me to know that?" she asked calmly, beginning to wonder if her deepest fear had come back to haunt her. The one that everyone in the Neitherworld had warned her about, time and again.

Apparently, he must have picked up on her thoughts and energy. He instantly backed off, shaking his head. "I didn't go to pick up broads, if that's what yer thinkin'. I just didn't want ya to get those kinds of ideas, but ya just did. I'm fucked! Doesn't fuckin' matter what I do!" he admitted angrily, downing the rest of his drink and throwing it at a nearby palm tree.

Lydia flinched, watching it shatter and feeling his icy, angry static in the air. She watched as he stomped away from her, going back to their hut. As he slammed the door shut behind himself, she stood there alone, wondering the age-old question that had been floating in her mind time and again. How did she allow things to get this bad?


	13. Give and Take

Chapter 13: Give and Take

Beetle stood in the middle of the living room, rubbing a moldy hand over his face and growling in anger. What the fuck was he supposed to do?! If he thought he was fucked before, he didn't understand the full meaning of it until now. He was trying his best, but his best was pretty shitty, apparently. How was he to know that she'd been keeping shit from him all these years? How was he supposed to react to that? And now, his own shitty behavior was causing Lydia to grow suspicious of him in return. He was supposed to be all considerate and stuff when it came to her feelings, and he'd just royally fucked that up, too.

"Fuck! What am I gonna do?" he panicked, and he was NOT the one to panic over shit. However, he had a potential clusterfuck in the making if he didn't turn things around and quick. The biggest looming cloud in his potential shitstorm was the fact that Lydia had just sent back the letter addressed to her mother, which meant she could show up at any time, and the broad was already nearby. He most DEFINITELY did not need that shit.

He darted around, as he heard Lydia turn the doorknob to get inside. He shrieked, juicing the door locked. He needed to slow this shit down, and quick. The only way to even remotely do that would be to try and catch her letter before it reached the Powers That Be, if it hadn't already.

"BJ! Open up!" Lydia began to knock on the door, making his ass squirm like a dog with ass parasites.

He kept quiet, secretly juicing giant locks on every door and window of the house, before darting off to the balcony. He had to do this shit, and he had to do it now, if it was even possible. He crept up to the ledge, peering over and seeing a more-than-pissed wife fuming outside of it. Now was his chance. It was only a matter of time until she retaliated, and it sure as shit wouldn't be pretty.

He snapped his fingers as his mind entered inside of a dark, twisting wormhole of sorts. The energy felt right, so he went with it. He went forward, feeling the trail of the letters, and the pull of the particular ones he was searching for. As he searched as quickly as possible, watching thousands of glittery, flickering envelopes pass by him on his quest. Whether it was mere luck, or some kind of meant to be shit, he didn't know, but he'd honed in on the four letters he'd been searching for. There was Chuckie, Delia, the Maitlands, and one with the name "Rose" written inside the envelope. That had to be it, so he used his powers and mentally juiced it as it flew by, pulling it out of the vortex and into his existence.

"BJ! I know you're up there! What the hell are you doing?!" Lydia shouted, though he could feel her shitty mood in the air like static that was warning him his ass was about to be struck by a bolt of lightning.

He looked down at the sealed envelope in his hand, trying his best to set it ablaze and failing miserably. "SHIT!" he huffed, realizing his power wouldn't work on the fucking thing, even now. FUCK! How did he not realize one of those damned envelopes belonged to her real mother? Why did he not give enough of a fuck to actually pay attention all these years? He just HAD to assume Babs and Adam would get separate letters, didn't he? He just HAD to forget that they were serving their little house arrest sentence TOGETHER! Once again, those fucking Maitlands made his afterlife worse, and they didn't even have to TRY this time! Why wouldn't the fucking letter just BURN already?!

_Betelgeuse..._

"Oh, fuck me..." he muttered, realizing what Lydia was doing outside. He scrambled throught their hut, searching for a spot to hide the son of a bitch so she wouldn't find it. He pulled open drawers, realizing she kept her shit in them. He then ran to the bathroom, instantly turning out of it, cause all her shit was in there, too.

_Betelgeuse..._

"AW, C'MON!" he yelled, throwing out his arms in exasperation. Now he was feeling that tickle of static all over himself. "SHIT!" he hissed, running to the kitchen. Oh, who the fuck was he kidding? They BOTH spent all their time in there getting wasted!

_Betel..._

His eyes grew wide, as he desperately bit the letter, trying to rip the bastard apart with his teeth and eat it. He quickly learned that shit wasn't working, either.

_...geuse._

It was at that very moment that he fell to the floor, completely drained, watching all his locks drop off every window and door he could see. He winced, quickly shoving the letter in his pants pocket as Lydia flung the door open with her amplified power. Yeah, she'd officially de-nutted him again.

"What the fuck, BJ?!" she yelled, storming up to him, as he laid there, in the less-than-manly fetal position.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry! Just don't set fire to mah balls er anything!" he wheezed, becoming an emasculated little pussy in a matter of seconds.

"Why'd you do that?" Lydia knelt down, getting in his face all scary like.

He winced, trying to prop himself up on his forarm. "I, uh...lost mah temper..." he lied, hoping she'd buy it. Hell, why would she not? He practically lost his temper every five minutes, anyway. Not that it was a good thing, but it may have been enough to save his ass from a very pissed Mrs. Juice.

"Figures." she stated flatly, holding out a hand to help him up.

Honestly, it kind of made him feel like shit that even in her most volatile moments, Lydia would still offer to help him. On the other hand, she'd stolen his fucking powers again, so that wasn't too pleasing to him. "Ya could do that, or you could just give me mah powers back." he smirked, hoping to charm her into it.

"Not yet, you don't." she said sternly, reaching her hand out once more.

"Eh...Fine..." he moaned, taking her hand as she used her newfound unholy powers to pull his ass off the floor. "Okay. What is it?" he muttered, limping over to the sofa and plopping down.

She stood before him, folding her arms across her chest and giving him a stern look. "You can't just do that every time I have to talk to you." she began, walking over to him and seating herself beside him.

"Uh...Yeah, I know..." he mumbled, eyeing her warily in case she decided to light his groin aflame at any moment. Then, he decided it was a ripe time to continue to butter her up so she'd give his damned powers back. "Yer right, Babe. My ass is wrong. I get it." he wheezed, throwing up his hands in feigned defeat. "I'll be a good boy now. Promise."

"Nice try." she smirked. "Now, why are you wondering off so much?...Is it me?" Lydia continued her cursed interrogation.

Of course, he couldn't spill the beans concerning all his nights watching for dainty magical letters to fall from the sky, so he had to come up with something nice and convincing, whatever the hell that may be. "S'not you, Babe. Well..." he paused a moment, rubbing his stubbly green chin. "Yeah, guess it kinda' is."

Lydia stared at him, not looking amused in the least. "Care to elaborate?" she raised a brow.

"Oh, ya know...We fight like all the fuckin' time." he began, watching her face begin to twist in anger and possible retaliation. Yeah, he needed to do a little better than that or he'd be in a world of hurt real quick. "Just sucks cause it's all my fault and shit. It's hard to see ya so miserable with my ass. So, yeah I do go out so I don't gotta see that shit." he admitted, actually telling some of the truth for once. "You ain't happy with me, Babe. I'm an asshole, but I'm tryin' tah fix it. I just don't want ya to leave my ass, Babe." Beetle continued, somehow actually letting more of his real feelings out. He didn't know if that was the wisest thing to do, but he did it anyway. Hell, maybe it would help him out some. "Yer the one. If you leave, I'm fucked."

He watched her warily, noticing that her features were softening as she listened to him. She always was a big softy, and that worked to his advantage at times like these. She bit her bottom lip, seeming to contemplate things. "You mean that?" she asked softly, and deep down that shit cut him like a knife. He really _had _let shit go too far. Her question was very telling. His despicable lies and behavior had gotten to the point of making her question his love for her deep down. He really was hanging on a fucking thread here. He could practically feel it in the air. Her pain and doubt was lapping at his insides like an illness.

Now, he truly was panicking. "Hell yeah, I mean it!" he straightened himself, despite his weakness, leaning close to her. "And don't you forget it," he said, scaring himself with how alive and vulerable he sounded at the moment. "Please don't think that shit, Babe. I'm beggin' ya..."

At this point, he seemed to have reeled her back in, if only a little. However, it wasn't his devious manipulation shit any longer. It was real. He felt her louder and clearer than ever, and he was terrified. Lydia looked his face over, and he could tell she was tracing it for lies. He knew she could feel his emotions, and he let her, knowing good and well he had been a fucking liar before. Far too late, he'd realized his deceit really was tearing them apart.

Lydia's brow furrowed, sensing how terrified he really was. "Is there something I need to know?"

And by fuck, he was still a bold-faced, shit-assed, motherfucking liar! "Nothin' you don't already know, Babe. I'm an asshole." he shook his head, desperately hoping she'd leave it alone. He was in too deep to tell her all that shit now. She was barely hanging in there as it was. One wrong move, and he was fucked. She didn't have to say it, he could _feel _it. He grabbed her hand in his own, squeezing it. "Babe, ya gotta believe me. I care, okay? I care too fuckin' much! Shit consumes me, Babe. It ain't you! Never has been. Never will be." he pleaded, throwing his planet-sized ego to the side and not caring about what a bitch he'd become over the years.

She stared into his eyes long and hard, making him feel like the most shitty, insignificant little piss stain imaginable. It seemed like a fucking eternity before she'd opened her mouth to speak. "Okay, BJ. I believe you. You can have your powers back." she smiled sadly, and though the air around him grew less heavy, he could still feel her despair like it was inside himself. It may have settled her down, but he knew it wasn't enough.

Without even thinking, in a moment of desperation, he said the absolutely most damning thing he could wish upon himself. "No, you keep 'em, Babe. I don't want 'em if it's gonna make ya think I'm lyin'."

It was at that very moment that the air around them both shifted, and her expression shifted to one of utter shock. "What?!" she nearly gasped.

"They're yours, Babe." he insisted, knowing he'd really done it this time. If that's what it took to make her believe his lying ass, then so be it. Not like he really used them for anything other than booze and smokes anyway.

Lydia stared at him with a shocked expression, before her lips finally curled up into that warm, beautiful smile he'd grown to love so much. Maybe things were gonna be alright after all. She began to rub her thumb over the top of his hand, and her emotions seemed to turn the icy air into a warm, humming breeze against him. His ring began to tingle just a bit on his finger, and he didn't know what the hell that meant, but it was probably okay for now, he reasoned. She leaned in and began to kiss him, as he breathed a sigh of relief through his nose. When what started out as a single kiss didn't stop, he figured he must've done something real fucking right to get this far with her, considering she hadn't wanted to touch his ass for a long time. He smirked underneath her own lips, realizing she wasn't stopping their little makeout session. Hell yeah! He welcomed that shit like there was no tomorrow.

* * *

Beetlejuice laid in bed staring at Lydia as she slept peacefully in her birthday suit. It was probably the creepiest thing a guy could do after boning his wife, but her boobs were out from under the blankets and they were nice as hell to stare at while he contemplated ways to hide that fucking letter. His power didn't even work on it, so he figured no love lost there. Maybe he could bury it, or stash it under some furniture. He'd have to do something with the fucking thing.

However, a strange knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts, causing him to nearly fall out of the bed. Not wanting to wake Lydia, he snapped his fingers, before coming to the realization that he had no fucking powers to juice his clothes on. Therefore, he reverted to his old school living days and put some pants on, before quickly creeping off before the knocking got any louder.

"Who the fuck would be knockin' on the door this late?" he grumbled quietly to himself, before pulling said door open. When he saw who was on the other side, he nearly fell over dead. Again.

"Oh, sorry. I know Lydia's not here." her mother stood at the door, appearing exhausted and somewhat defeated. "I didn't know this was your place."


	14. Hidden in Plain Sight

Chapter 14: Hidden in Plain Sight

Beetlejuice stood dumbfounded, gawking at Lydia's mother like she had three eyes and an extra appendage or two. He quickly pulled it together, however, knowing that damage control had to be done and pronto if he was gonna save his own ass in this situation.

"Hey, uh..." he warily peered back inside his hut before quickly closing the door behind him as he finished buttoning his open shirt. "Mind if I help ya out?" Beetle asked innocently, hoping to lead her away from Lydia and possibly any other landmines that might derail his marital status.

"Uh...sure. That would be a big help to me." She smiled hesitantly, and he had to avert his eyes to keep from feeling all weird about her similarities to his actual wife. "You obviously live around here, so maybe you could tell me where she _doesn't _live, if nothing else."

"Exactly what I was thinkin'!" he grinned, pleased with the fact that this was going in the right direction and he'd probably be rid of this chick sooner rather than later. "In that case, before we go any further, you see that hut off in the distance?" he asked, immediately pointing to Gerald's place. "I can tell ya for a fact she ain't there."

"Oh? Who lives there?" she asked, more than likely out of curiosity, just like Lydia was apt to do. Apparently they _both_ liked to ask pointless questions for the sake of asking them.

"Eh, some fat creep. Trust me, ya don't wanna run into the likes of him. Fuckin' weirdo." Beetle narrowed his eyes in on Gerald's home, trying his best to sound all ominous and shit. He didn't need her to talk to the likes of that fat dweeb and find out he was all chummy with Lydia.

He watched as her face twisted into a look of disgust. _Perfect, _he thought, mentally patting himself on the back for being so damned witty and shit.

"Well, that's good to know. Wouldn't want to waste anymore time..." she trailed off, eyeing the hut with a look of apprehension on her features.

"Yup. C'mon, I'll show ya the rest of the coast. I pretty much know every dipshit up this way. This'll be reeaaal quick and painless for ya." Beetle grinned devilishly, while ultimately feeling pretty damn pleased with himself. He began walking in the darkness, with Lydia's mother softly walking behind him. Maybe this lying shit wasn't so hard after all, he reasoned.

* * *

Beetle leaned against a palm tree, pointing to a hut belonging to _fucking Kevin_, of all people. "She don't live there, either."

"So who lives here?" she asked for like the hundredth time. Damn, did she really need a personal biography of every fucker in the neighborhood? Without his powers, he was getting tired and didn't exactly feel like quoting public records to this broad.

"Don't know his name..." Beetle blatantly lied. "He's a big, tall bitch that nobody likes. Believe me, everybody hates him."

"Alright." she shrugged, looking down the stretch of huts on the coast that lay ahead of them far off in the distance. "What about down there? You know anything about that area?"

"'Fraid not." he shook his head, playing dumb and hoping he could send her on her way ASAP. "This kinda ends my area of expertise, if ya get mah drift." he shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets and fidgeting about, hoping she'd take the hint and get the fuck away from him.

"I see." she nodded, though her expression grew subtly more downtrodden. "Well, thanks for everything. You saved me the wasted effort." she forced a smile, holding out her hand.

"Eh...No problem..." he muttered, hesitantly shaking her hand, though it fucking weirded him out in the worst way. She looked too familiar, she acted too familiar, and she felt way too familiar to consciously think about, so he decided to repress that shit. _Hard. _

"I guess I'll go on from here. I know I'm bound to meet her again someday..." she trailed off, her voice thick with sadness. It almost caused Beetle to feel like shit, until the woman opened her trap again. "Well, I'll let you get back to your wife. Don't want her to worry about you."

"Huh?!" he yelped, wondering just what the fuck she meant by that.

She pointed at his hand. "Your ring. I saw it at the bar."

"This? Oh, yeah. I, uh..." Shit! Was she on to something? Did she know he was a liar? Was this some sick twist of fate? Was she here just to fuck with him for keeping her daughter away?

She eyed him warily. "I do appreciate your help, and I'm desperate for anything I can get, but that's all I need. I know your married, and I kind of feel scuzzy for letting you _'help me'_ this far, but it's just because I need to see Lydia. Nothing else."

"Er...Wut?" His lip curled up in disgust. What the fuck did this chick think he was doing?!

"Look, I'm sorry for not coming out and saying it sooner. I mean, what kind of married man stays in bars at night talking to women? Why would one take a strange woman out at night while his wife is right at home? I just needed your help, that's all." she explained, wringing her hands nervously, and acting completely fuckin insane and freaking out like _someone else _he knew.

"Uh..." he began, only to be cut off by her again.

"Besides, I'm seeing someone back home. He's very dear to me. I meant nothing more than what I asked for, so..."

"Okay, hold up!" Beetle began to feel his anger levels go from pissed to irate in a matter of seconds. This broad thought he was interested in her?! Holy hell. "I was just helpin' yer ass! End of story!" he spat, though he felt like losing his temper with this chick was probably not the smartest thing to do.

"Hey, now! You snuck out to help _me_!" she raised her voice, getting all defensive and shit for no good reason because there was NOTHING going on in the first fucking place! "Married men don't just help strange women they don't know. They usually want somehing in return, and that's not going to happen!"

"Fuck it. I'm out. Good luck with yer little hunt. Yer gonna need it." he growled, feeling more than livid that this batshit crazy woman thought he was pursuing her ass. He began stomping away from the lunatic, until she opened her yap one final time.

"Look, I'm sorry..." she blurted out, causing Beetle to whip around dead in his tracks. Oh, god _why_? Why the weepy 'sorry' shit? Not her too! This shit was gross. And. Too. Fucking. FAMILIAR.

"What the fuck for?!" he huffed, confused, irate, and now completely and utterly disgusted by a hot milf, which would never happen in a million years if not for the woman he was practically castrating himself for, which was Lydia-Fucking-Juice, the best thing to ever happen to him in all his lives, and apparently the bane of his fucking existence to boot.

"I shouldn't have gotten desperate enough to accept your offer. I should've just searched this place over myself. I shouldn't give you the wrong idea..." she sighed, pissing him off even more.

Okay, that was enough shit from her. "Now listen here..." he growled, stepping up to her. "It ain't got nothin' to do with that shit. I LOVE my wife, got it? I wouldn't sleep with yer ass anytime, ever. Period. " he spat, pointing his finger in her face. "I don't give a shit if you rip yer clothes off and do naked cartwheels around my ass. Ain't gonna happen. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna get the fuck outta here..." he stomped off, leaving her standing in place, apparently shocked into silence.

* * *

Beetle sat on his lawnchair, watching in the distance to see if that crazy mother of Lydia's had followed him. However, after a couple hours of watching in mind-rattling paranoia, he decided that she must've taken the hint and continued her pointless mission to find his wife.

He finally stood, feeling drained and exhausted, limping to the front door. He opened it quietly, sneaking in and creeping toward the bedroom. He was relieved as hell when he found Lydia still sleeping butt-ass naked where he'd left her. He sighed in relief, stripping down to his boxers and sliding back into his spot under the blankets with her.

"BJ...You awake?" she yawned, stretching and giving him a good view of damn near everything before sliding back under the blankets .

"Oh, uh, had to go piss, Babe." he replied like a dumb son of a bitch without anything better to say.

"Okay...goodnight...BJ..." she threw her arm over his chest, cuddling up to him and dozing off once more. Well, that was pretty fucking easy, he mused, shrugging to himself. He looked down at her, placing his arm over her and patting her back. If that massive fuckstorm he'd concocted actually came to her attention, he was pretty sure that innocent looking angel he was holding would bite his dick off and wear it around her neck as a trophy. He sighed, hoping he could pull off the monstrously huge shit pile he was creating. Odds were that he was still teetering on top of said pile and leaning toward fucked.

His face twisted in worry, thinking about just how messed up the night had been in general. Things technically weren't getting any better, what with her crazy mom and his lack of powers and all, but a guy could hope. Right?


	15. Unfortunate Surprises

Chapter 15: Unfortunate Surprises

Beetlejuice grunted, opening his eyes and seeing Lydia form a robe around herself as the light of day poured onto her. She seemed to notice him as he yawned and stretched, her brown eyes glittering in the sun and that warm, welcoming smile forming on her lips.

He grinned lecherously at her. "Mornin', Beautiful..." he growled suggestively.

Lydia smirked, playfully bouncing back in bed onto her stomach, propping her chin on her fists. "You're in an _awfully_ good mood, Mr. Juice." she remarked slyly.

He leaned toward her, looking into her eyes. "Look at ya Babe, why the fuck wouldn't I be?" He paused, tracing his eyes over her body. "I can do all that stuff ya like _again_, ya know..." he leered, hoping against hope that he could do a repeat, which was like finding Waldo, a unicorn, and a fucking pot of gold at the end of the rainbow all in one. That being said, the odds were also about the same.

She shot him a telling look, and he began to feel that warm, welcoming hum in the air around himself again, which quite ironically, felt like he was actually in Paradise. "You know, you can be strangely charming..." she raised an eyebrow, grinning from ear to ear.

Truthfully, just feeling her warmth was enough to make him feel elated in some twisted way. However, given the mischeivous look on her face, something in the pit of his soul told him he was to actually going to attain rare, elusive morning sex from his hot wife, and that was like winning the fucking lottery, both statistically speaking and in actual awesomeness. His brow raised. "Whaddaya say, Mrs. Juice?"

"Well, you _did_ forfeit your powers to me, after all..." she rubbed her chin, smirking. "I guess that does deserve some sort of reward..." she teased, reaching over and taking his hand.

"Then what the fuck're ya waiting for? Get over here!" he grinned devilishly, pulling her on top of him.

"Hey, now!" she chuckled, and that sweet laugh made him feel the closest to a living breather he'd felt since the Plague days. "I didn't say what that reward was, you doofus!"

Beetlejuice scowled. "Huh?"

"I've been thinking about your little no-power issue, and how limiting it is..." she began, grinning like she'd known something he didn't. He wasn't so sure he liked that shit. Just where was she going with this?

He narrowed his eyes, looking up at her. "...Yeah?"

Lydia smiled innocently. She then pointed to the far side of their bedroom, juicing crates upon crates of booze and cigars near to the ceiling. She shrugged nonchalantly. "I figured you could use it. That should keep you supplied for a while. You know, since you can't do that yourself."

Damn, maybe his little act of self-degradation had paid off more than he initially thought. Beetle grinned widely, gazing up at her like the lovesick sap of an asshole that he was. "Did I tell ya how fuckin' perfec-"

"Shhh..." she kindly scolded him, holding a finger to his lips. "Not _that_ word."

He glared up at her in defiance, knowing all too well Lydia was _that_ word, and it was bullshit that she wouldn't let him compliment her ass. Of course, just when he was about to run his shithole about it, she leaned down and began to kiss him. It was at this point, that he decided to promptly tell his opinions to go fuck themselves. Why waste time bickering about it and NOT getting laid, when he could shut his trap, keep his thoughts to himself, and GET laid? He could be a dumb prick at times, but he sure as fuck wasn't that stupid.

* * *

Beetlejuice sat on the balcony with a crate of booze and a big box of Cuban cigars at his side. He took a long drag off of his cigar, blowing smoke rings and watching the sea breeze blow them apart in mid-air. "Ah, how I've missed you..." he grinned devilishly, smelling the breakfast that his hot, PERFECT wife was preparing downstairs. He snorted, thinking extra hard about her perfectness just to spite her.

If he'd have known that his little stunt would get him that much ass and attention, he'd have done it years ago, he mused. However, he'd stick to just being grateful that she was happy with his miserable old corpse for once. Somehow, against all odds, he'd done something right for once. And somehow, they both seemed hopeful and on the right track for once.

Beetle gazed at the dead souls walking about on the beach beneath him. Somehow, the air was a little lighter, and the ocean wasn't just some annoying body of death water. It was actually kinda nice. He watched couples walking on the shore hand in hand, some old, some young, thinking of how he and Lydia could do that sappy shit, too, if he really wanted it. He took a drink of his icy beer, observing people with happy smiles and laughter, and somehow it seemed sort of obtainable. Just maybe, if he gave her a little more and quit taking so much power, they could be that happy - no - STAY that happy. Somehow that seemed strangely possible now.

However, his eyes narrowed when a group of horribly familiar faces made their way through the crowd. Beetle's mouth gaped, as he dropped his beer and immediately stood, gaining a closer look. "No..." he began to grit his green teeth, his face twisting in a bout of rage and inner angst. There they were, Lydia's fucking family, marching their unwanted asses up to his home! And to his supreme misfortune, there he was, plummeting off of his mountain top of euphoria into a big old pile of steaming horse shit! Why now, of all fucking times? Couldn't he just enjoy the fucking moment for once? Why did those dipshits have to come and piss in his cheerios?

He wiped his hands over his face defeatedly, wondering just what the fuck was going to happen now. Was this the last happy day he'd ever spend with Lydia? Would those assholes convince her to run from him like everyone else once had?

"Fuck me..." he muttered miserably to himself, plopping back down in his chair, watching the smoke from his cigar trail into the air and dissipate. Suddenly all that bright euphoria bullshit had cleared and reality came crashing in, and somehow he knew that just like always, their happiness would be short lived. Somehow, just as it always had, fate had simultaneously flipped him the bird and given him a shit sandwich to dine on. Somehow, once again, he'd made his way back to being fucked.


	16. He Who Shall Not Be Named

Chapter 16: He Who Shall Not Be Named

Lydia smiled to herself, juicing a giant plate of bacon onto the kitchen table, to go along with the smorgasbord of breakfast food she'd already brought into existence. "Oh yeah..." she mumbled to herself, juicing a jar of dead flies on the counter for Beetlejuice to "season" his food with. Sure, it was horrifically disgusting, but she'd grown used to his peculiar dining habits long ago. Beetle's nauseating ingestion of insects was practically normal to her by now, and that probably spoke levels about her own sanity, but she'd also grown used to her lack of _that _over the years as well.

What could she say? That lunatic had grown on her like a parasitic fungus over time, and just when she'd begun to believe that just maybe he'd went too far, he went and handed over his insane powers for her to keep without hesitation. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly hopeful when it came to Beetlejuice. He'd actually seemed to be trying again, and that was like a drink of ice water in a barren desert. Maybe he had fucked up a lot, but he really didn't seem to be fucking up in a malicious way. Her smile faded briefly. Then again, maybe she was just making up excuses for his shitty behavior again. Either way, she concluded, he was trying now, she was feeling happy and a little hopeful again, and that was all that mattered.

Of course, her brief moment of reflection was completely interrupted when she was stopped in her tracks by a knock at the front door. She paused, somehow sensing a vague, familiar feeling in the air. There was a shift, and it was a warm, welcoming, and nostalgic one. It was too familiar to deny, and in an instant, she was juicing off her silly apron and practically running for the door.

Feeling a strange, childlike curiosity, she placed her ear against the door to confirm her suspicion.

"Are you sure this is the right place, Adam?" her lips curled into an ecstatic grin as she heard Barbara's doubtful words vibrate through the wood.

"I followed the exact coordinates on this letter. This HAS to be it." Adam remarked, making sure his precision didn't go unnoticed.

Lydia inhaled deeply, mentally preparing herself to open the door. There were obviously potential problems ahead due to her _unique _marital situation, but she could only smile and hope for the best. Besides, she'd finally reunite with them, and that was the important thing.

"Pumpkin? You in there?" she heard her father's voice call from the other side.

"Give her time to come to the door, Dear." Delia scolded in her usual, condescending tone that Lydia had grown to mostly tolerate over her living years.

She closed her eyes after her brief mental pep talk, and slowly pushed the door open. Knowing that the family she'd longed to see for so many years was on the other side of that door was one thing. However, locking eyes with her father for the first time since before her acsension was enough to nearly cause her to choke up.

Lydia could only smile. "Hey..." she said softly, instantly met with his embrace.

"Oh, we've missed you so much!" Barbara lept in, squeezing her, followed by Adam, and of course, the once wicked step mother turned into actual respected human being, Delia Deetz.

"I've missed you too." Lydia grinned. "I thought I'd never see you guys again..."

"We thought the same." Adam spoke, as Lydia felt his former sadness lacing those words. "We all got letters saying you were here. We sent them off years ago. It's taken forever to hear back from you."

Lydia frowned, puzzled by his words. "Those letters just arrived here the other day. I don't know why it took so long..."

"Doesn't matter, Sweet Pea. We're all here now." her father smiled warmly, trying to divert the conversation into a less uncomfortable area, probably due to his own anxious nature. Lydia glanced down, seeing that they all had brought bags of luggage with them, no doubt due to their desire to stay with her a while. Her hut wasn't exactly fit for six people, so she'd have to work her newly attained super powers to fix that situation, she reasoned.

"I brought you something, dear." Delia smiled, pulling a strange, nearly phallic shaped object from her gawdy sequined dufflebag and handing it over to Lydia.

"Oh, uh, thanks...What is it?" she asked, secretly wondering if it was some sort of "art" or if it was actually a weird dildo. Holding said object make her slightly uncomfortable, considering it did actually look like a crooked, erect penis with googly eyes.

"I call it 'Death from Above'. Oh," Delia paused, grabbing a stand for it from her bag. "Here. So you can display it!" she grinned proudly, handing it to Lydia, who took it with much apprehension.

"What does it mean?" she asked, feeling her face twist into a mixture of strange disgust and confusion against her will, much like everyone else but Delia.

"It's a Sandworm, Lydia! Remember when one gobbled up-" she began, only for Lydia to grow wide-eyed and interrupt her recollection of Beetlejuice's first demise.

"Yeah! It's great! Thanks!" Lydia quickly answered, before quickly changing the subject. "Well, you guys must be tired! Come in!" She exclaimed, gesturing inside.

"Nice place ya got here, Pumpkin!" her father said, eyeing the area, before landing his gaze on the kitchen table. "We came just in time for breakfast, Honey!" he smiled, looking back to Delia, who was currently scowling at the jar of dead insects on the counter, along with Adam and Barbara_. Shit. _

_ "_Uh, yeah! Help yourselves!" Lydia spoke loudly, drawing their attention her way, as she juiced several plates and utensils around the the table. "I'll be right back! I'm just going to make a few altercations so you guys can unpack your things!" she explained, before darting off to the balcony.

She knew all too well that none of them were ignorant enough to ignore the signs that _he _was still around. And, technically, her last visit with them remained pretty ambiguous with them on the subject. Once she told them she was going to ascend to a higher plane, Barbara came right out and drilled her about Beetlejuice. She simply smiled and told her ghostly god parent that it had all been "taken care of" and left it at that. Come to think of it, she didn't speak to BJ much on the matter either, only letting him know that they still thought of him much like one would have an opinion on pestilence, disease, gonorrhea, or paying taxes. Therefore, the verdict resulted in a very, very strong dislike for her husband. Yeah, it wasn't good.

At the very least, she had to warn BJ of their presence, though it would probably do either of them little good. She had to at least try, for his potential benefit. As she quickly paced up the stairs she could hear him having a mental breakdown from up above. The word fuck was being used quite a bit, along with many other expletives, with particular use of the word "bitch".

"Probably Barbara..." Lydia winced, muttering to herself as she heard glass shatter and objects tumble aggressively on the deck. Yeah, it wasn't so good on his end, either. It was painfully obvious that he'd caught sight of them. "No warning needed, apparently..." she sighed.

When she finally caught sight of him, he froze, holding a broken beer bottle in one hand, part of a chair in another, and wore an expression that could only be described as that of a mental patient fresh out of an asylum. He quickly and blatantly hid the evidence behind his back, smiling awkwardly at her, despite the fact that the whole balcony was obviously trashed to hell and back.

"You okay, BJ?" she asked, grimacing at the insufferable mess he'd created. Good thing she held the power to juice it all away.

"Uh..." he stood, dumbfounded like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his moldy skull. Then he began to gesture wildly, looking more insane with the potential weapons in his hands. "Babe, the mosquitoes are fuckin' awful this year! Been tryin' to kill the little bastards the whole time ya-"

Lydia interrupted his insane rambling, placing her hands on her hips and shooting him a look that clearly translated into _don't even try that dumb shit._ "You know they're here, don't you?"

She watched as his expression shifted into that of a worried, scolded puppy. "Er...Yeah, Babe, lemme' explain." he began, throwing up his hands defensively, and causing a part of her to truly pity him. She knew they would all give him hell, despite his best future attempts to rectify the situation.

"You don't have to." she said, shaking her head as he let his guard down, dropping the shattered objects and looking considerably less insane as a result. She stepped up to him, her feet sloshing in multiple random puddles of booze. "Geez, BJ...How many of these things did you break?" she asked, not particularly happy with the result of his little tirade.

He winced, scratching the back of his head nervously."Eh, just one case..."

"Look." Lydia began, rubbing his arm affectionately in an attempt to possibly calm his crazy ass down. "I'm well aware that you all don't exactly get along. I'm sorry they hate you."

He scowled. "I told ya not to start that apologizin' shit. It's my fault they hate my ass, not yers. I was the one who did that long list of really bad shit to make 'em hate me. Trust me, the feelin's mutual, but I gotta get along with these fuckers...er...uh...I mean..." he stammered, catching himself insulting her family, which was actually more amusing than anything.

"Don't worry, I know you hate them, too. Just try your best NOT to argue with them. That's all I ask. I'll try my best to smooth things over." she said, taking his hand and trying to console him in some way.

He shot her a look that showed he clearly didn't believe that would work for one second. "And just _how _do you plan on doin' that, Juice?"

She looked up to him, her own face twisting into worry. "Honestly? I have no fucking clue..." she admitted. He smirked, obviously amused with her blatant honesty.

"Guess we're both fucked, eh?" he snorted, squeezing her hand a little and causing her to feel truly sorry for this awful situation, regardless of whether it was her fault or not.

"Lydia? Are you up here?" an all too familiar voice chimed, as Lydia's eyes grew wide with fear. Beetle's face instantly formed a snarl, as Lydia turned from him to lock eyes with a wide-eyed, gaping Barbara.

Lydia sighed, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Yep. We're both fucked."


	17. I Can Explain!

Chapter 17: I Can Explain!

"You..." Barbara glared, stepping up onto the balcony, her shoe splashing in Beetle's mess. "Lydia. Why is HE here?!"

"Well..." Lydia began, before she was interrupted by Beetlejuice himself.

"I'm HERE because she's my WIFE." he snapped, though clearly still holding back. "Thanks fer the warm welcome, Babs." he mocked, not holding back nearly enough.

"BJ!" Lydia scolded, releasing his hand and watching him inhale deeply in frustration. She then turned to Barbara. "He's not lying. We're still together."

She watched as Barbara gawked at her in disbelief. "No. You can't be. Is he holding you hostage again?" she mangaged to choke out, appearing to be highly fearful of her husband. Given their last little meeting, Lydia didn't blame her. BJ had held them _all_ hostage, for god's sake. One could not simply forget such an event, let alone forgive it.

"Fuck no!" BJ growled. "She wanted this! I didn't force her to marry my ass..._this_ _time_." he added, for some sort of bizarre clarification that probably didn't matter to her anyway.

Barbara stepped up to Lydia. "Is that true, Lydia?" she narrowed her eyes, grabbing Lydia by the hand, as if to pull her away from a potential kidnapper or something of that sort.

"Yeah. He's right. I told him I wanted to. We've been together a long time now." she admitted, feeling a pang of sympathy as Barbara's face twisted in a mixture of confusion, despair, and possible disgust. She then looked up at Beetlejuice, scowling.

"What did you do to her? She told me all that mess was taken care of. Is that why we haven't heard from her all this time, you...you _perverted monster?!_" Barbara spat, pointing a finger in his face as his eyes grew wide with what at first seemed to be something akin to fear, before shaping into something much more like rage.

"NO! What the fuck is yer problem?" he glared at her, taking a step closer to her and causing Lydia to feel highly uncomfortable about this whole shitty confrontation.

"YOU are my problem! You held us hostage just to harm Lydia!" Barbara's voice raised even more as she pointed a finger at Lydia, causing her to back away. "You THREW her out of our home! Don't even get me started on the things you were calling her! YOU...YOU BASTARD!" Barbara yelled, before yanking Lydia closer to her.

Lydia winced, bracing herself for the potential fallout. She watched as the two glared a hole into each other's souls. Finally, after what seemed like the afterlife's longest staring contest, Beetle finally opened his mouth and spoke through gritted teeth. "She ever tell you WHY that shit happened?!"

Barbara slowly shook her head, then looked to Lydia in confusion.

"It's a long story, but BJ's life was in danger. It was all one big misunderstanding! I'll tell you all about it if you come downstairs with me." she gripped Barbara's arm, in an unexpected moment of feeling extremely desperate. "_Please. _I'll explain everything. I SWEAR!_" _

Barbara glared at Beetlejuice again for the longest time, before looking back to her and hesitantly nodding. "Fine. Let's go." she replied shortly, before taking off down the stairs in anger.

Lydia stared down at her feet, feeling both afraid and a bit defeated already. She sighed, flicking her wrist and juicing BJ's mess away before beginning to follow Barbara.

"Hey." BJ interrupted her thoughts, grabbing her by the arm. She whipped around, looking into his disgruntled face. "That hag didn't even know we were still together. Just what did you tell her?"

Lydia inhaled, starting to feel that gnawing trapped feeling again. "I'm sorry, BJ...I told her exactly what she said. I said it was taken care of, and that was it. I didn't really tell them anything. I didn't know what to tell them after what they'd seen." She felt a bit guilty for denying him again, but at the time she felt she had no choice. It was all such a blur. Lydia stared at her feet, feeling despair loom inside of her. She knew her happiness would be short lived. It always was, and unfortunately it always had something to do with Beetlejuice.

"Quit the sorry shit, Babe. I told ya." he pulled her close, as she noticed that his scowl had begun to soften. "Just try an' tell those shits the truth this time, kapeesh?"

"I kinda don't have a choice this time, BJ." she admitted, averting her eyes from him as she was reminded of the dreaded task ahead. She then looked up at him, knowing that she'd better get down there soon or she'd have another fight on her hands. "I think you'd better stay put a while."

He frowned. "What the fuck am I gonna do up here?"

Lydia sighed, juicing another large crate of booze on the deck. "There. That should keep you busy." she stated, turning away from him.

Unfortunately, she was yanked backwards again, as BJ refused to let go of her hand for some reason. She whipped around in irritation. "What?!"

The look on Beetle's face was somewhat somber, and that made her feel strangely uneasy. "Lydia..." he began.

"...Yeah?" she asked, knowing whatever it was, it was bound to be something he was serious about. The tone in his voice was downright unsettling.

"Ya know I love ya. Don't let 'em convince ya otherwise, ya hear?" he said earnestly.

For some reason, her icy despair melted just a fraction from his words. She could feel the warm hum of electric coming from him as he squeezed her hand just a bit tighter, before letting her go. A strangely unstoppable grin spread across her face as she nodded in agreement. She then began to descend to her fate of having to be interrogated by everyone in her family. Unbeknownst to Beetle, that smile had turned into a full-blown frown by the time she stood back in front of them all, each with a horrifically puzzled expression on their faces. Yeah, this was going to be a long day.


	18. Play Nice

Chapter 18: Play Nice

"So you're telling me that you're perfectly fine with being married to someone that was going to send you to prison for a thousand years? Someone who held you hostage_, multiple times_, even?! Lydia, I don't think you've thought this through..." Adam sat at the far end of the table, pushing up his glasses and straightening himself anxiously.

"No, you don't understand. I told you, they were going to exorcise him permanently if he was caught again. He didn't want to do all that. He was _desperate. _Besides, it wouldn't have come to that if I hadn't told on us. BJ never planned on that happening." she explained, trying her best to get them all to understand that her husband wasn't an _evil_ asshole, he was simply a regular asshole.

"Yeah, but if he wasn't such a sleazy criminal, you wouldn't have to worry about that in the first place!" Barbara reminded her. Apparently, she wasn't having any of this. She simply wouldn't budge on the matter.

"He's changed!" Lydia huffed, not intending to budge on her stance, either. Sure, some doubt had crept in, but she knew her husband enough to know he was a changed poltergeist. Mostly, anyway. Maybe...

"How?" Adam piped in again, seeming skeptical.

"Plenty of ways." Lydia folded her arms defiantly. "He doesn't go out to strip clubs or hit on women, he's not a bio-exorcist anymore, he doesn't get into trouble, he puts the toilet seat down..."

"How can you be so sure?" Adam continued, causing Lydia to grow more frustrated by the minute. When the fuck was he going to stop? This little investigation of theirs had been going on forever. The sun was setting for god's sake!

"Because he's here with me ALL THE TIME!" Lydia yelled in frustration, causing the others to glance amongst themselves warily. She then secretly reminded herself of her own doubts. He wasn't technically there _all_ the time, so it was technically a lie, but screw that. She had to get them to let this go. Sure, she'd worried about his whereabouts, but that had been cleared up when he'd given up his powers just to keep her around. Of course, she had briefly wondered if his guilt actually driven him to giving up his powers rather than his innocence, but that was none of their business, anyway!

"But Lydia, wouldn't you rather be with a nice young man that doesn't look so...dead?" Delia added her pointless two cents in, causing Lydia to roll her eyes.

"Why does that even matter, Delia? We're all dead. There are literally ten thousand or more Neitherworld residents here as we speak! They ALL look like corpses! What's the big deal?" Lydia threw up her arms in annoyance.

"Thanks to _you_ they're here." Barbara stated, her expression somber. "He doesn't even belong here, Lydia. He wasn't a good enough person to get here on his own. You don't need someone like that. You may not see it, but that creep has caused you nothing but trouble since he laid eyes on you. Believe me, he's never as innocent as he seems." she warned, and Lydia couldn't help but to question what the hell she meant by that.

"She's right." her father added, clasping his hands together nervously. "Why don't you just come stay with us, Sweet Pea? Maybe it'll clear your head. You know, get all of this stress off of you."

"I'm not GOING anywhere!" Lydia stood up defiantly, nearly knocking her chair to the floor. "Look, I know you all hate him, but can you just give him a chance? If nothing else, just do it for me! Now, I'm going to expand my home and invite you all to stay with me, so I hope you guys do just that, because I'm not going anywhere!" she proclaimed, before turning and pointing to the far wall, causing the side of her hut to expand, jolting them all about and manifesting new guest rooms. She'd waded through the sea of other people's opinions before, and that didn't get her anywhere but into trouble. So she firmly decided to stay planted in her own beliefs about the matter, even if they were sort of doubtful. However, she'd keep the doubtful part to herself where it belonged.

Lydia glared at them all, waiting for a response. They all looked to each other, obviously not pleased in the least. However, her father began to nod with much apprehension. "Then I guess we'll be staying with you, Pumpkin." he finally decided. The others hesitantly nodded in agreement.

"Great!" she grinned widely, quite satisfied with her accomplishment. Then, simply in spite of it all, she added another caveat. "Now I'm going to go get BJ. Nobody's allowed to fight him. Besides, like I said, he doesn't have any power, so he can't do all that terrible stuff he did before. Got it?" Lydia demanded, partly wondering if she was standing up for herself, or if BJ had just rubbed off on her after all those years. Either way, they all nodded again in displeased agreement, and that helped that shitty feeling of dread she'd been experiencing. Well, sort of.

* * *

Lydia headed back up to BJ, leaving her displeased family members to unpack and settle in. When she reached his former hiding spot on the balcony, she saw him passed out in a chair with a half-empty bottle of booze in his hand. That was clearly no surprise, so she shrugged and seated herself beside him, gazing at the sun setting in the horizon as she listened to his gurgling snores.

She sighed, grabbing the last beer from the crate and popping the top off of it. She took a large drink, before speaking. "BJ..." she began, nudging his shoulder.

"...Uh...Wha..." he muttered, before continuing to snore even louder than before.

"BJ!" she shouted, as he startled, splashing his remaining beer all over her.

"SHIT!" he gasped, turning to her with a confused expression on his face. "What the fuck, Babe? I'm AWAKE!" he snapped, before eyeing her up and down, as she sat there, irritated and soaked in alcohol. "Why're you all wet? Ya smell like stale beer."

Lydia glared at him, while pointing to his now empty bottle. "_Your _beer. You were passed out."

"Oh. Mah bad, Babe." he snorted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's all good." she smirked, feeling a little more amused than irritated at this point. She snapped her fingers, instantly juicing herself dry. "I talked to them."

He raised a brow. "And?"

"The consensus is that they still don't like you, but they aren't trying to make me leave and they are staying. I told them not to fight with you, either. They agreed to that, too." she informed him, hoping that would help lessen the tension just a fraction.

"Eh...Agreein' to it is one thing. We'll see if the dipshits actually follow through on that. I wouldn't bet on it." he scoffed, fiddling with his empty bottle. He then glanced at her from the corner of his green eye, before smirking. "So they tried to take ya back, didn't they?"

Lydia sighed, answering reluctantly. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Figures." he grunted, clearly not amused with that fact. "Well, at least ya stayed this time." he grinned, still looking off into the horizon, which was growing darker by the second. The orange light radiated against him, causing him to look strangely alive in the changing atmosphere. He then chuckled. "Glad ya stayed, Mrs. Juice. Kinda thought I was fucked into bein' single again." he teased, though Lydia could strangely sense the honesty in his words and in the air around her. Even more strange, was the tingling sensation her wedding ring was giving her at the moment.

"I'm not going anywhere, BJ." she replied, fiddling with her ring a bit. It felt so warm to the touch. "You're stuck with me."

"Damn straight, Babe." he nodded, before turning to her with a peculiar look on his face. "So, uh...Guess I'm s'posed tah go down and play nice, huh?"

"Yeah. I guess so." Lydia answered, feeling her uneasiness grow once more.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck and fidgeting uncomfortably. "Alright. Let's get this shit over with..." he muttered, as she stood, following him away from their momentary peace of mind and into the possible inevitable disaster ahead.


	19. Awkward Beginnings

Chapter 19: Awkward Beginnings

Beetle stepped warily down the staircase, glancing around the hallway as he made his way to the living room. "Coast is clear, Babe." he said quietly, feeling happy that he didn't have to lock eyes with one of those fuckers just yet. Hell, his little meeting with Barbara was enough to make him want to strangle her ass, let alone having to actually conversate with the rest of them. He then noticed Lydia's little expansion on the far side of their little abode.

He pointed at the additions, feeling a bit impressed with her ability to control all that power and not actually blow the fucking place up with it. "Nice work, Babe. Bet it's a helluva lot easier with mah powers, eh?" he looked to Lydia, who appeared surprised by his comment.

"Oh, yeah. It was easier, actually. I didn't have to focus so hard. Come to think of it, I barely had to think about it at all..." she mused, pausing. Lydia then raised a brow. "So, is that how it's always been for you? Is it that easy?"

"Eh, pretty much." he shrugged. "Well, ya know. Ever since I got cursed an' shit. Before that, I was just your average asshat, I guess." he pondered aloud, looking from room to room and figuring that they were all either cooped up in their rooms or out on the shore. Either way, he figured going out away from their hut was his best bet. At least he had a little more room to squirm away if he suddenly needed to run screaming into the night. "Guess I'll go get a smoke and stroll outside, Babe." he declared, heading toward his giant stash.

"No need." Lydia stopped him, whipping another box of cigars out of thin air. Good thing she was nice, or his ass would be having major withdrawals right about now. Dead or not, he still needed his bad habits like a politician needed paid hookers.

"Heh. Thanks, Babe." he smirked, before the two left to go outside into what was now basically night. Luckily, Barbara was nowhere in sight. Neither were Adam or Delia. Unfortunately, however, Chuckie boy was sitting in his lawn chair, looking all pathetic and anxious and shit, like he always had. Beetle couldn't help but stop dead in his tracks, not knowing how the fuck to even approach the situation.

Apparently, Lydia had noticed he was there, too. She paused, growing quiet herself. "Well, I guess we should go talk to him, BJ. That means _you_, too." she insisted, letting him know that there was no way in hell he was getting out of this.

"What the fuck do I say? How's the weather? Sorry I juiced yer whole family to chairs while I went all apeshit on yer daughter?" he snapped, not knowing how to even start to deal with such a shit pile. How did one simply come back from such a major fuck up?

"Maybe?" Lydia shrugged, looking equally baffled and uneasy. Well, that sure as fuck didn't help.

Beetle grunted irritably, stepping up to Chuck just to get it the fuck over with. Things were going to be weird and awkward as hell anyway. He figured he might as well get a head start on the cycle of self-inflicted suffering he was about to induce. Apparently, Chuckie hadn't seen him coming, and when he'd actually locked eyes with Beetlejuice, he nearly thrashed out of his seat.

What would usually cause him to burst out into maniacal laughter, actually just made him feel weird as hell. He awkwardly cleared his throat, before forcing himself to extend his hand to Lydia's cowering excuse for a father. "Hey, Chuck. Uh...who'da thunk we'd run into each other again, eh?" he choked out, sounding completely lame.

He watched as Chuckie Boy looked to Lydia, who gave a forced half-smile. He then quickly jumped to his feet, hesitantly taking Beetle's hand and shaking it. It was then that Beetlejuice had realized two things. For one, Chuck had sweaty hands. Secondly, he was scared as hell. Beetle really couldn't blame the little piss stain, given the fact that their last handshake sort of resulted in a bit of a non-consentual-tied-to-a-chair situation that he'd rather wipe from his memory.

"Y-yeah...Who would have thought...Lydia would uh...end up with you?" he stammered, obviously far too nervous to even lie for the sake of being less awkward. Beetle mentally shrugged, feeling like it had sort of went past that point a hell of a long time ago anyway.

"Heh, kinda unbelievable, ain't it?" he snorted, before pulling out a cigar. "Eh, care to light this fer me, bud? Lydia kinda has all mah power now, an' I forgot mah lighter inside an' shit..." he muttered, feeling somewhat pathetic himself for his lack of anything remotely good to say or do.

"Oh, uh, sure." Chuckie nodded so hard his head could've popped off, as he pointed at Beetle's cigar, lighting the tip of it.

"Thanks, Pops. Uh, want one?" he grabbed another cigar from his box, as Lydia pulled up another chair on the other side of her father, probably to make him feel a little safer around his creepy ass.

Chuck eyed the thing as if it was laced with arsenic. "Uh..."

"Take it, Dad. He won't bite." Lydia teased, nudging her dad and trying hard to loosen his anxiety-ridden ass up a little.

"Oh, uh, yeah." he said quickly, hesitantly grabbing the smoke from Beetlejuice's hand, and lighting it. He didn't seem to actually smoke it, however. He just sat there uncomfortably, with sweat beading up on his forehead, much like Lydia's little bookworm man-bitch of a friend. All distasteful and unwanted Gerald thoughts aside, a long, awkward silence just happened to start hanging in the air like rank armpits.

Finally, Lydia broke the silence. "Dad, remember what I told you about BJ?" she asked him, as Beetle wondered just what the fuck she did tell him. "That was my fault, too. He has no power now. He was desperate then. He's not going to do anything to us."

On that note, Beetle took a long drag from his smoke just to distract himself from this insufferable, hellish situation.

"Now, Pumpkin, I don't know why it's _your_ fault." he finally replied, with Beetle figuring Chuck's fatherly instincts had finally conquered his generally pussified state, resulting in his little comment.

Beetlejuice glanced her way, as her face seemed to twist in worry as well. Beetle sighed, blowing out smoke and figuring that she was afraid he'd go on some tirade just because of what Chuckie Boy had said.

"Dad...I told you, it was my fault too." she replied, her own anxiety bleeding through her voice and the air around them. Truthfully, it kind of made Beetle feel like shit to know that in some indirect way, he frightened her too.

"It _was_ all yours truly." Beetlejuice said, diffusing the situation with his unexpected agreement with Chuck. "Yer Pops is right. It wasn't your fault, Babe. If I wasn't such an asshole to begin with, shit would've never gotten outta hand like it did." he admitted, hoping that the truth might get him in better with Chuckie Boy, and potentially help save his ass in the long run. It was at that point that Chuckie whipped his head around so fast that Beetle thought he might crack his own neck. Of course, he wouldn't get that lucky, so he continued on. "She ain't lyin'. I was desperate as hell. Eh, didn't make it right, though."

"Yeah, well that's over with, BJ." Lydia reminded him, frowning. "You're not like that anymore."

"Nah, my hostage-takin' days are over. So don't worry about me, Chuckster. Yer daughter has officially made me her bitch now. I couldn't light you guys on fire if I wanted to." he snorted, thinking about how he did, indeed, like the idea of lighting their asses ablaze. However, Lydia had de-nutted him in so many ways over the years that he was practically sterile. Therefore, he did, indeed, NOT have the gonads to try such a feat. "Seriously though, uh, I ain't gonna do anything crazy. Yer daughter saved my ass big time. I ain't gonna fuck that shit up." he admitted sincerely, taking another drag off his cigar.

"Yeah..." Chuck mused, seeming to calm down. "She really did..." he turned to Lydia, as she smiled at him. "She's always been the empathetic one of the bunch. She didn't get it from me." he stated, shaking his head. "She took that after her mother..."

Beetle's brow furrowed, as Lydia glanced at him, her smile slightly fading. "Now, don't give me that bullshit. Ya can't be talkin' about Mrs. Post Modern Dumpster Fire in there..." he scoffed, feeling personally insulted by the fact that her own father would compare her to the likes of fucking _Delia. _

Chuck's face scrunched up, appearing baffled. "Not Delia. _Rose_, her real mother. You've never seen her."

"Oh." Beetle said, promptly shutting his trap. How he wished that statement was true, but unfortunately, he'd run into the broad, not once, but twice, and that didn't end so well. It was at that point that he decided to result to good old fashioned denial. She was already outta sight, so why not outta mind, too? His current scenario was awful enough without extra tormenting thoughts to go along with it.

"Lydia's the spitting image of her. They were so much alike..." Chuckie smiled at his daughter, and Beetle could feel her sadness begin to trickle through the air, tugging at his insides.

"About that..." Lydia began apprehensively. "I got her letter, too. She's here...somewhere."

_Yeah, hopefully somewhere far away_, Beetle thought ruefully to himself.

"Oh." Chuck said, seeming a little shocked. "Well, I suppose it's no surprise she's here in Paradise. Rose was a good person, despite everything..." he stated, as Beetle sensed a hint of regret in his voice. Interesting.

"So what happened with the first one, Chuck? She steal yer Xanax er somethin'?" Beetlejuice blurted out, forgetting to hold back on his little remarks at the moment. He quickly earned a hard glare from Lydia as a result.

"Heheh, no. She had her own." Chuck mused, and though it was funny as hell, the fucker didn't seem to actually be joking about that shit. He finally took a hit off the cigar Beetlejuice had given him, blowing smoke out everywhere in between a cough or two. "We didn't get along. She thought I worked too much. Thought I neglected her and Lydia. She didn't care about money like I did. We were just too different. It never would've worked. She hated the corporate world. I loved it. We divorced, and she found a hot Latino man, and I found...my _current_ spouse..." he muttered, taking another long drag of his cigar.

Beetle glanced at Lydia, who was smirking when Chuck mentioned that last part. He couldn't help but to snigger, as well. Being married to the likes of Delia was the most hilarious form of torture a man could possibly throw at himself. It was official, old Chuckie Boy was a certified glutton for punishment. No wonder he'd popped pills like they were tic tacs. The poor fucker was obviously suffering hardcore, even now.

"What can I say? You live, you learn." Chuckie laughed nervously, clearly feigning happiness about an otherwise hellacious set of vows he'd suckered himself into.

"Apparently _you_ didn't..." Beetle chuckled to himself, and though her old man didn't hear it, Lydia did. She scowled, mouthing a big, fat "shut up" his way. He snorted, looking away from her deadly Medusa stare. Not that he was scared of it or anything, he just wasn't NOT afraid of it, either. Either way, he'd somehow slithered his way into at least some form of civil conversation with Lydia's dad, if nothing else. However, by this point, his cigar was all but burnt up, his head was beginning to throb from that little drunken spell earlier, and he was ready to get the fuck away from her pops before he said something stupid and fucked things up again. Even though he'd basically behaved himself, the law of averages said that the longer he sat and ran his mouth, the higher the chance that he'd slip up, piss off dear old dad, and have Lydia juice his balls off all in one night. Needless to say, he wasn't pleased with those odds.

"Well I hate to bail on you folks, but I think I'm gonna hit the hay. Whaddaya say, Babe?" he asked his wife, hoping against hope that she'd agree to come with him and not force him to play nice any longer. He watched as she looked to her father, who stood, stretching his arms over his head, before flicking the tiny remainder of his cigar into the sand.

"I believe it's time I try and get some sleep myself." he yawned, turning to his daughter. "Goodnight, Pumpkin." he said, pinching her cheek and causing Beetlejuice to throw up in his mouth a little from the overtly sappy shit he was forced to witness.

Lydia turned to Beetle, smiling. "Yeah. let's go to bed. I'm exhausted."

Beetlejuice stepped in behind her, whispering in her ear. "So, how'd I do?"

"Could have been better." she stated. "But it could have been a lot worse, too. All in all, I'd say you did well, BJ."

"Hey, I'll take what I can get." he admitted, snaking his arm around her shoulder as Charles entered the front door ahead of them. "Night, Chuckie." Beetle grinned widely, as they all parted ways to go to bed. Chuck simply nodded, giving a weak little half-smile, which was either a signal of awkward confusion or forced civility. Either way, Beetle would have to settle for it.

* * *

"The fuck is that?" Beetle grunted, pointing to the strange, cock-shaped object now mounted on their nightstand, as he shut the bedroom door behind himself.

Lydia sighed, juicing herself into a nightgown. "Delia calls it 'Death from Above'. It's supposed to be a Sandworm like the one that swallowed you up."

"I shoulda' known it." he muttered. "Only that skag could turn my potential downfall into a castrated dick with eyes."

Lydia sniggered, crawling under the blankets. "I don't know. It looks pretty appropriate to me."

"Reeealll cute, Juice." he growled, noting that somehow his annoyance made his little sadist wife happy. He changed his clothes the old fashioned breather way, before plopping into bed beside her.

"BJ?" Lydia said, grabbing his attention as his head hit the pillow.

"What?" he grunted, hoping she'd let him pass out sooner rather than later.

"Thanks." she smiled faintly, patting his shoulder. The air around him began to shift again, making him feel strangely uneasy.

"Fer what?" he asked, his face twisting in confusion.

"For trying. It means a lot to me." she answered, her smile causing him to sleepily grin in return.

"Eh, what can I say? I'm an awesome fuckin' husband." he gloated, being arrogant just for the sake of bullshitting.

Lydia shrugged, yawning. "Well, we've had only one fight today, so I'd say you did well."

"That mean I'll be _rewarded _again?" he leered, hoping against hope that she'd do just that.

"BJ..." Lydia winced, appearing massively grossed out. "Not while my parents are here. It's just too weird. How about an 'IOU' for now?"

Well, that was fucked. He'd have to scratch off one of the few incentives driving his good behavior for now, making things that much harder. Maybe he was a bit of a sleazy dickwad for feeling that way, but he couldn't help that her refusal royally pissed him off inside. On top of every shitty thing he was currently having the misfortune to experience, he'd also get to top that off with the newfound joys of celibacy. He leaned close to her, growling in her ear. "Oh, you will owe me, Mrs. Juice. _You will_..."


	20. Civility

Chapter 20: Civility

Beetlejuice wearily opened his eyes, grunting and scratching his unmentionables as he glanced over his shoulder to see that Lydia had apparently already awakened and left the bed some time ago. He sat up, rubbing his forehead and sighing, as he heard the muffled chatter of his in-laws from down the hallway. The smell of coffee and bacon filled the air, which was a sign that his wife was trying to be hospitable, unlike himself.

"Fuck me..." he growled, spitefully throwing the blankets over himself and refusing to crawl out of bed. Sure, last night could've been worse, but it also could've been a hell of a lot better. At worst, this whole ordeal was his worst fucking nightmare, at best it was awkward as hell. Needless to say, it wasn't pleasant, and he didn't want to be exposed to those judgemental asswipes any longer than he had to be. Besides, what was wrong with a little stalling?

Of course, as fate would have it, he heard a knock on the door.

"BJ? You up?" Lydia's muffled voice hit his ears, causing his green eyes to shoot open. He laid very still, much as one would do when confronted with a rabid, wild animal, desperately hoping that playing dead would make her go away.

Unfortunately, that only provoked her to open the door and waltz right in on his short-lived peace and sanity. "BJ, I know you're up." she said flatly, clearly not impressed with his acting skills. Damn that stupid fucking curse-bond shit! She probably felt it the moment he'd opened his eyes.

He growled, sitting up. "Uh...I was just thinkin' about gettin' up, Babe. Promise." he sniveled like a little pussy as her glare cut through him like a knife.

"I'm sure." Lydia replied, unconvinced. "C'mon, BJ. I know this sucks, but they're all here and you guys have to learn to get along. No use in postponing it."

"Er...Yes, _wifey_..." he muttered sarcastically, grabbing a cigar and a box of matches off the nightstand. "Just give me a minute and I'll meet with my adoring fans. I'm sure they can hardly wait to see my ass."

He watched as Lydia rolled her eyes. "Okay, BJ. Just hurry." She commanded, and like a good little bitch, he agreed _reluctantly._

* * *

Beetle snuffed out his cigar, as he left the safety of his bedroom and slowly walked through the hallway, feeling much like he was approaching a proverbial lion's den with a bloody steak tied around his neck. Yeah, shit wasn't exactly looking up as of late.

He stepped into the kitchen, where Lydia was attempting to awkwardly make small talk with her family at the table. Of course, once they all caught sight of him, they froze, their eyes locking on him like they were ready to fire projectiles at his face.

"Uh...Mornin', folks..." he muttered, after awkwardly clearing his throat. What added insult to injury, was the fact that not one of those assholes made an attempt to say anything at all. Even Chuckie, who he thought he'd actually made a little headway with, sat still, his mouth gaping just a bit.

"BJ..." Lydia smiled half-heartedly, patting the empty space beside her. "Come, sit with us. We were just catching up, WEREN'T WE?" She shot everyone a sharp look, as they all hesitated, before nodding in agreement. Seeing Lydia boss those cock-bites around was almost sexy, but shit was too weird to even care about that now. Even worse, was the fact that none other than the succubus known as Barbara Maitland was seated right beside where he was supposed to plop his ass down. _Lovely. _

_ "_Er...Sure, sure..." he nodded, trying to appear as if he _wasn't _hating every moment of his existence right now. As he slowly stepped over to his seat, he noticed that Adam stared him down like he very much wanted to rip his face off and wipe his ass with it. As soon as he pulled his chair out, Barbara began to scoot away from him in a piss poor attempt NOT to look obvious.

Okay, this weird tension was actually beginning to piss him off to no end, especially when it came to _Barbara_, of all fucking people. At least he was trying to be civil with the Sandworm riding she-devil. As he sat beside her, he made it a point to turn and lock eyes with her, just to make her ass squirm. "Mornin', Babs." he grinned widely, making sure to lean in and invade her personal space just for the fuck of it. "Ya seem tah be in a better mood today." he baited her, hoping that _she'd _be the one who would slip up and piss Lydia off instead of him.

"I _was_..." she muttered, glaring at him and making no attempt to quell her dislike for him, which only made him grin that much wider in satisfaction. At least her ass was miserable, too, and that brought him much pleasure.

"Lydia, are you sure everything's okay?" Adam chimed in, once again trying to persuade her to leave, which Beetle was not one bit surprised or happy about.

"Of course! I told you that already!" Lydia answered him, already appearing exhausted. Beetle looked to her, giving her the best, _told ya so_ look he could muster.

She simply glared back, before continuing on. "Just give him a chance! Dad?" she turned her attention to Chuckie Boy, who's color instantly began to drain as he was put on the spot. "You talked to BJ last night. Did he try anything crazy? Did he hurt you?"

"Uh, well, no, Pumpkin." he stammered, fiddling with his napkin uncomfortably. "I, uh...just think we all need a little time...to get used to all this. That's all."

Beetle smirked. "Well, take ALL the time ya need, Pops, cause I ain't goin' nowhere." he replied, making damn sure that everyone around him understood just that. He'd been through enough bullshit just to be with Lydia, and he'd be damned if any of those cocksuckers were going to plan to take her away from him now.

Chuckie backed off, as to be expected. Of course, that didn't stop those fucking Maitlands from running their yaps and giving their opinions, all of which he gave exactly zero shits about.

"How can you say that?" Adam looked at him, his glare making him look even more like a fucking dweeb than usual. "Just how do you get off staying with Lydia after you've ruined her life like that?"

Beetle snorted, hiding his rage as best he could. "Really? We gonna do this shit now?" He then made it a point to turn back to his wife, who looked just as exasperated and as full of anger as he felt.

_What now, Dearie? _

He smirked, watching her scowl even harder at him after she heard the thought he'd directed her way.

"He didn't ruin my life, Adam! I thought I told you already!" Lydia began to raise her voice, as Beetle sat back and watched it all go down. Sure, he was mad as hell, but his wife seemed to be defending his honor, and he was all about that shit. Besides, it was kind of fun to watch her bitch someone else out for a change, particularly that very table loaded with unbearable twats.

"Lydia, you can't possibly love this...this...CREEP!" Barbara, the sweetheart that she was, chimed in, causing Beetle to nearly snarl in response. Damn, it was hard to keep his cool around that opinionated hag!

"God, Barbara!" Lydia huffed, standing and placing a hand on her forehead. "How many times do I have to say it?"

Beetle simply shrugged, grabbing another smoke from his pocket and lighting it up while everything fell apart around him. If anything, he figured, all this turmoil could possibly work to his advantage. If he was a good boy, then maybe he could win Lydia's favor even more, considering how shitty her relatives were acting right about now.

"Lydia, you don't want him! He's a scuzzy, good-for-nothing criminal! He hurt you!" Barbara insisted, causing Lydia to go off.

"They were going to EXORCISE him, Barbara! You, of all people, should know how fucking scary that is! You both were goners until BJ saved your asses! You wouldn't be here without HIM!" Lydia yelled, pointing at him as she emphasized every point she'd made. _Good girl, _he thought to himself, sniggering smugly with satisfaction.

"Well, that doesn't excuse what he's done to you!" Adam rebutted after a short pause, instantly turning Beetle's satisfaction into more fucking irritation. When would these two fuckers just give it up? He looked about the table, taking it all in as he went against his own nature in keeping his mouth shut for once. Everyone was either pissed or on the verge of a mental breakdown. He seemed to be the only calm fucker in the place, despite not really feeling even remotely that way.

Hell, maybe he'd just change the subject and see what happened. He inhaled his cigar deeply, before blowing a few smoke rings into the air. "Uh, Delia. That was quite the gift yah made us..." he forced himself to say, inwardly cringing at the thought of the strange, dick-shaped trash she proclaimed as art. Yeah, it was out of nowhere, but he figured he'd try something. Besides, Lydia could bear witness to the fact that HE was being the rational one.

He watched as Delia's head whipped around like a woman possessed. "Oh, uh..." she whimpered. "You like it?" her expression reeked of surprise and that all too familiar inflated ego that held on to the delusions that she was an artist and not, in fact, a creator of garbage heap abominations.

"Hell yeah! A'course I like it! Reminds me ah how I nearly got turned into Sandworm shit! Ya really captured the moment, there." he grinned, purposely blowing smoke in Barbara's direction and causing her to go into a fit of coughing.

Anyone with half a brain could see that he obviously hated it, but Delia seemed to latch on to any crumbs he was willing to throw her way, so that could work to his advantage.

"Well, I'm glad you like it! I really wanted the viewer to feel what I witnessed, you know? To relive my experience vicariously through my work." she nervously smiled. Even though she held back, Beetlejuice could tell she was eating that shit up.

Beetle shrugged. "Ya could always make Mrs. Juice some more of that shit...er...stuff. She loved it, didn't ya, Babe?" he turned to his wife, who was standing wide-eyed, with her mouth gaped like a dead trout.

"Oh, yeah. Of course." she replied, rubbing her arm nervously.

"What?! Delia, this is serious! This is no time to go peddling that art of yours!" Adam interrupted the de escalation in order to fucking escalate shit even more, despite Beetle's attempts otherwise. Okay, this shit was really fucking with him now. Beetle grunted uncomfortably, putting his smoke back in his mouth in order to stifle the unpleasant shit he wanted to spew forth from it.

"Adam, I'm perfectly aware of all that." Delia quipped indignantly. "But Lydia already said her peace on the matter. We might as well get along."

Beetle grinned devilishly, knowing that Delia was full of shit. She'd rather promote her crappy artistic vision than actually do anything about the current situation, and that was not only fucking hilarious, but pretty convenient as well. "Atta' girl, Delia! Glad tah have ya on board!" Taking candy from a baby was harder than that. Good thing that nitwit was gullible.

"She's right, Adam. I'm not going anywhere." Lydia declared, slowly seating herself once more.

"You can't be serious." Barbara huffed, apparently in disbelief, as she glared at Beetle. He simply grinned at her in return, quite happy with the fact that the she-banchie wasn't getting her way.

"I am." Lydia nearly growled, stabbing her breakfast with her fork. "That's the end of it. I'm NOT talking about this anymore."

"You know, this really isn't the best time for disagreements, anyway. Maybe we can all go out somewhere, Pumpkin. We can spend some quality time together, eh?" Chuckie suggested, apparently finished with the argument as well, which only made Beetle that much more satisfied. Soon, they'd all give in and have to fucking deal with it or take a hike. Surprisingly, his wife was standing her ground, and that was more than impressive.

Barbara huffed, gripping her drink hard in anger. "Fine, but I'm not going if _he's _going to be there." she declared, making it known that she couldn't stand him. Well, the feeling was fucking mutual, so he didn't give a shit. If anything, it would be a welcome break for his ass.

"Don't do that." Lydia said softly, as Beetlejuice could feel a sudden hum of hurt radiating from her. "I haven't seen you guys in years."

"I love you Lydia. That's why I'm not going. I can't sit back and watch you do this to yourself. You're too good for him. You deserve better." she proclaimed, causing Beetle to feel the uncanny urge to place his hands around her neck and squeeze the bitch out of her.

"She's right." Adam insisted. "It wouldn't be right for us to go along with it."

Lydia's expression shifted to one of sadness after Fuckface's little remark. Needless to say, Beetle wasn't going to sit back and watch Lydia hurt like that. It was bullshit to watch, and though Beetlejuice sorely wanted to pick Adam up and beat Barbara to death with him, he needed to be excruciatingly _civil_.

"Er...Tell ya what, Babe. You guys go ahead without me. Ya need to spend time with yer folks. I'll be right here when ya get back. Whaddaya say, Babe?" he quickly interrupted, hoping to simultaneously brown nose some more while getting himself away from Lydia's insufferable family. Hell, it was practically a win-win for him.

Beetle watched as everyone at the table stared at him like he'd grown another head. Apparently, his little move of peace had caught everyone off guard, and that was a good sign. He was looking like the rational one here, and Lydia would see that. Therefore, she had less of a reason to ditch his ass.

"No. They have to accept it, BJ." she reminded him, still seeming really pissed at THEM and not so pissed at HIM, which was fucking wonderful.

He shrugged, nonchalantly, pretending to be more level-headed than he ever even remotely was. "Eh, maybe they need some time, Babe. Just go have yer fun."

Lydia gave him a long, hard look, as if trying to figure out just what was going on in that head of his. Of course, he made sure not to emote too many of his thoughts or feelings at the moment, just in case. She finally sighed. "Fine. We'll go out." she muttered.

"Great!" Beetle feigned excitement, before turning to Barbara and glaring. "I guess I'll let you folks have yer fun _while you can." _


	21. Dirty Little Secrets

Chapter 21: Dirty Little Secrets

Lydia juiced some beach chairs and umbrellas onto the sand, along with a large cooler, complete with copious amounts of booze inside. Who the hell was she kidding? She was going to need it.

"Okay, here we are." she said, feeling less than enthusiastic about their little "gathering". In all honesty, she found it completely ridiculous to end up miles away from her home just to sit by the ocean, which was _also_ directly in front of her home. Was all that walking really necessary? No. No, it wasn't. Hopefully this wasn't some potential kidnap-slash-rescue attempt, she thought as she warily eyed each family member. Given the shocked expressions hanging on their faces, things weren't getting easier anytime soon. Therefore, she opened said cooler and quickly grabbed a beer. She then fell into her beach chair, knocking her drink back as fast as inhumanely possible.

Hesitantly, the others took their seats, their obvious apprehension causing tensions to rise even further.

"Don't mind if I do." Her father chuckled nervously, being the first one to succumb to his anxiety and reach into the cooler to fetch some booze to mask it.

"Anyone else?" Lydia forced herself to smile, covering the nauseating feeling this whole ordeal was creating inside of her.

"Do you have anything a little more..._tasteful _in there? Drinking beer isn't exactly my forte..." Delia raised a brow, a smug expression forming on her features. Lydia smirked. Leave it to her step mother to pretend she actually had anything remotely resembling good taste.

Lydia pointed her finger and juiced the cooler. "I do now." She then paused, looking from Adam to Barbara, who stood silently with looks of disapproval etching their features. She knew it was going to be bad once they'd finally found out her little secret. How bad, she was unprepared for. Her father and Delia weren't so morally uptight, so she knew they'd let things slide eventually, falling back into their own indulgences too much to care. However, the Maitlands were another story altogether. Was she going to have to fight them on this every step of the way?

"Lydia, what happened to you? You used to take our words into consideration." Adam began, stepping over and seating himself.

Lydia rolled her eyes, realizing they were both bound and determined to lecture her all day. Hopefully, they'd run out of steam sooner or later. Either way, she was pissed, and as much as she loved them, they weren't shutting up. "I've considered it. Now leave it alone. You too, Barbara." she snapped quickly, as her god mother had just begun to open her mouth.

"Fine..." Barbara muttered, finally seating herself. Lydia watched as Barbara looked her over, before speaking again. "If that slimeball has changed so much, then did he tell you what he did when we first met?"

Lydia furrowed her brow, somehow feeling that horrible, sinking sensation inside herself. "What are you talking about?"

Barbara looked to Adam, who nodded in return. "Go ahead and tell her, honey. She needs to know."

* * *

Beetle sat on his lawnchair, watching random losers parade about the beach as he blew smoke into the air. He was pretty damned satisfied with himself, given the fact that he was looking squeaky clean while the likes of Lydia's family were coming off as nothing more than judgmental asswipes to his spouse at the moment.

"Heh...losers..." he chuckled darkly to himself. If things kept going at this rate, Lydia would get tired of their asses and force them out soon enough. Then, he'd be right where he was supposed to be, which was by her side without any opinionated douche nozzles around to fuck things up for him. He wouldn't even have to lift a finger. Those twats were driving her away all by themselves! The trash was practically taking itself out! Her family's shit had proved to be such a convenient distraction, that his marital problems seemed to be on the back burner due to all the commotion, and that was absolutely fucking wonderful in his book.

Beetle grinned, pulling a beer out of another one of his crates, popping the top off of it in pure, unadulterated smugness. Yep, those fuckers weren't prepared for HIM to be a halfway decent guy, and he'd make sure it stayed that way just to spite their asses. Of course, he'd have to keep his trap shut when it came to them, or it was game over, given the fact that he was walking on thin ice as it was. He'd simply let his wife's ever-building anger work its magic on the situation. It seemed to be doing one hell of a job so far, so why mess with a good thing?

However, as fate would have it, just a mere number of hours later someone would have to come along and shit all over his happiness. It happened as he sat back, nearly dozing off with a beer hanging loosely in his moldy hand.

"There you are, Pigsticker..." an all too familiar voice jolted him from near-sleep. He pulled his sunglasses up to see Annie Weschire, a.k.a. the skag with a big, hairy mole on her neck and an even bigger, nastier ego, staring his ass down.

"The fuck do you want?" he growled, suddenly not only pissed, but now on high alert due to the fact that this was the worst fucking time ever for a broad like her to be showing up at his place.

Annie shrugged, her dress suggestively hanging off one shoulder. "Nothin'. I just happened to run into ya, that's all."

"Well, keep on runnin'." he grumbled, placing his glasses back over his eyes and resuming not giving a fuck about her.

Suddenly, she yanked the glasses off his face, causing him to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight. "What the fuck was that for?!" he snapped, not amused in the least. Of course, much as she had in her previous living years, the crazy bitch would not - nay - COULD not let shit go. Beetle knew her well enough to know that Annie had always been a top-tier shit stirrer, and apparently crossing over to the good place hadn't phased that aspect of her in the least.

"So, what is it, LeRou? You too good to talk to me now?" she snarked, folding his sunglasses and stuffing them right between her big, bouncy tits.

Okay, that was enough shit for one day. Beetle sat up, glaring at her. "Why the fuck do you even care? Ain't you got some dick to ride er somethin'?"

"You weren't saying that when it was _your_ dick I was ridin'." Annie folded her arms across her chest, smirking slyly.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me..." he muttered, wiping a hand over his face. He also knew Annie enough to know that she was pissed off that he had rejected her former advances. She was the kind of woman that was the worst type of slut possible. In his living days, she took pride in stealing husbands, wrecking homes, and just skanking things up in general. Hell, it was practically her area of expertise, and he knew it for a fact. She was nothing but a miserable, horny, no-good, trouble maker, which meant she was practically him with jiggly lady parts. The bitch had seduced him away from her own sister, for fuck's sake. Sure her sister was a walking nightmare that he ultimately shafted in the end, but that didn't make her any better. Of course, his dumb ass had fell for it just because his dick had done more thinking than his actual brain back then. Once Annie had him in her vice-like grip, she turned around and porked his old man just to stir shit up some more. The bitch loved it when guys fought over her, and he did back in his younger, far more stupid days. Once again, it was the dick verses brain argument, and his dong won the battle every damned time. Now, there she was, standing with an indignant look on her freckled face simply because he was a married man that did NOT want to sleep with her ass.

"Who's kiddin'?" she asked, placing a hand on her hip. "Where's that wife of yours? She around?"

"I ain't tellin' you shit about my wife. Now get outta here..." he growled, standing and stepping toward her.

She grinned maliciously, taking a few steps back. "She ain't here, is she?"

"That ain't none of yer business. Now get the fuck outta here." he spoke through clenched teeth. For fuck's sake, why didn't this bitch just give up and leave already?

"Your wife...She kinda young? Pale? Dark hair?" she grinned, as Beetle felt his face fall slack in response.

"What-" he began, before Annie interrupted him again.

"You were right, Pigsticker. She's _real _pretty. Too bad your talkin' to other women in bars while she's away." she scoffed, her expression curling into one of devilish satisfaction.

"Huh? How the fuck do you know what my wife looks like?" he growled, as Annie's eyes moved past him to focus on someone behind himself.

He turned around to see Lydia standing there alone, eyes wide and mouth gaped in shock. "BJ? Is that true?"

He stood there dumbfounded, before whipping back around to see that Annie was walking away with a big, evil smile on her lips.

"No, Babe. That ain't true." he shook his head, holding his hands up defensively, before turning back to see that the bitch had vanished before he could ultimately wring her hairy-moled neck. Judging by the hurt expression forming on his wife's face, he didn't know if he could come back from the whole ton of fuck he'd just fallen into.


	22. Thin Ice

Chapter 22: Thin Ice

"Who was she?" Lydia asked, the pain and doubt more than evident on her face.

Beetle looked behind her warily, hoping her family wasn't nearby. Strangely enough, they were nowhere to be found. "Come in with me, Babe. Please. I'll tell ya everything." he practically begged, hoping he could clear things up with her before shit possibly got even worse. She simply stood there, half in shock, so Beetle grabbed her by the hand and quickly led her inside their home, heading to their bedroom and slamming the door behind him. Whatever reason her folks were missing in action, he had no fucking clue, but he needed to get Lydia alone in case they came barging in.

"That was some old broad I used to know during mah livin' days." he came right out and said it, desperately hoping he could use a dash of honesty to save his ass.

Lydia began to wring her hands nervously. "What was she talking about? Why was she here with you?"

"Okay, okay." Beetle held up his hands defensively. "Remember that night I told ya I got some drinks? She was there. The crazy bitch propositioned me, but I DIDN'T take the bait. I swear it! Pinky promise! Cross muh heart! Scout's Honor! All that shit! I told her I was a happily married man, and she proceeded to come here and start shit with me 'cause she didn't like that I turned her ass down!"

Lydia appeared completely and utterly baffled. "Wait. She asked you to have _sex_ with her?"

Beetle sighed. "Yeah, yeah...I get it...I know that shit's hard to believe, but believe it, Babe. She's THAT kinda' nasty!" He spoke, without thinking about how that last sentence didn't help his case in any way whatsoever. "Uh..."

Lydia paused a moment, before hesitantly asking another question. "...Have you been with her before, BJ?"

"Not in this lifetime, Babe." he admitted, scratching the back of his neck, averting his eyes from her possible wrath."Back when I was a breather, well...'fraid so." he admitted, feeling terrified that Lydia would instantly walk out on him and not look back. "Remember that broad I told ya about? The one that slept with my old man behind my back? It was her mangy ass! She was a trouble making bitch then, and she still is! Ya gotta believe me!"

Lydia bit her lip, still appearing torn. Her emotions were bleeding into him through the air. He could practically taste her pain and doubt. "But she said _women_...What women were you talking to, BJ?" She asked, her voice growing unnerving and calm, which wasn't a good sign.

There was no way in hell he could tell her about talking to her mom, so he'd just have to omit certain parts of the truth for the sake of his marriage. "Look, Babe. She made that shit up to mess with me. She saw you and decided to put shit in yer head. That's what she does. She's a lyin' hag!"

Lydia gazed up at him, her brown eyes glazing over with tears. "All those nights you've been out...Is that what you were doing?"

"FUCK NO!" he snapped, before even realizing he'd done so. "I mean, no, Babe." he continued, calming down. "I was outside smoking most of those nights. I never even went anywhere. That was the first time I'd been in a bar in fuck knows how long. Please, Babe. She's lyin' on my ass. Don't believe her."

Lydia inhaled deeply, before seating herself at the edge of the bed. "BJ...As long as you're telling the truth, I'm going to believe you." she shrugged, though he could feel her sense of defeat in the electricity she was emitting. "Just don't lie to me if you ever get tired of being with me. I don't want that." she sighed, beginning to wipe at her eyes in embarrassment and causing him to feel like the biggest piece of shit ever.

"What?!" he nearly gasped, sitting beside her. She looked away from him, but he pulled her face back to his gaze. When he met eyes with hers again, they were full of tears. "Fuck. No, Lydia. I swear I ain't lyin'. I'd be a son of a bitch to do that to ya, and a dumb son of a bitch at that. Please, Babe. Don't think that shit, just cause some dumb broad tried to mess shit up for me. Why would I go anywhere else? Yer fuckin' perfect."

"I told you not to say that." She scowled, her anger bleeding through her voice. "You don't really think that."

Oh, shit, he was losing her! He could feel her terrible mood like a hurricane inside of him. "Yes I do, damnit! I ain't gonna NOT say it anymore. It's fuckin' TRUE! Why would I not think that? Why do ya think I get mad when other dickwads look at ya? Why do ya think I'm a jealous asshole? Why do ya think I'm actually bein' civil with yer folks, Babe? I don't do all that fer nothin'. I do it cause I think yer the shit, Babe! I told ya! Ya gotta believe me!" he pleaded, getting ready to roll in the floor like a fucking dog if need be. He could NOT lose her over something so fucking vapid and pointless.

"BJ, I said I believe you. I just don't like it when you call me that. I'm not perfect." she reiterated her point.

Beetle looked at her, not happy about her self-deprecating nature or the emotions he was feeling from her, which made him question if she actually did believe him at all. "Do I have to give that speech all over again?"

Finally, the air seemed to lighten a bit. Finally, Lydia smirked just a fraction, which was a gigantic fucking relief to himself. Maybe she did believe him, after all. He sure as hell hoped so. "That won't be necessary, BJ."

"Good." he said, feeling relieved as hell. Still, that didn't quell the rage building inside himself when it came to that no good little freckled wench and her manipulative fuckery. If he could only juice her ass to Saturn right about now. "Babe?" he impulsively began, ready to seek revenge on that broad for putting him in such a god awful position in the first place.

"Yeah, BJ?"

"Is there anyway I can get mah powers back, fer just a teensy-weensy bit? Ya know, an hour or two. Maybe even a few minutes..." he raised a brow. Hell, it wouldn't take long to send that horny, freckle-faced cock goblin flying directly into a Sandworm's digestive tract. He was pretty sure he could do it in record time.

"Why?"

"Eh, just to issue a friendly little warning." he shrugged, trying his best to appear sort of innocent. Lydia began to eye him warily. Yeah, she wasn't buying it.

"If she comes back, I'll deal with it." she declared, as Beetle sensed a tinge of anger in the air around them. He wasn't so sure if that was directed at his ass or not, but it was scary enough to make him instantly retract his statement like the good little man bitch he'd turned into long ago.

"Okay, Babe. Forget I asked." he replied, fidgeting nervously in hopes Lydia wouldn't juice his man-bits off or something due to her possible rage. The life of a eunuch was something he neither desired or envied. He then paused, before making sure she truly didn't hate him. "Ya forgive me?"

"For what? You said you turned her down. You didn't do anything wrong." she admitted, as the air began to clear of her strongest emotions, leaving a small unsettling hum around him. He wasn't too happy about the residue of strange feelings still emitting from his wife, but he'd have to settle for things as they were.

He was grateful as hell for her patience. He didn't know if any other women this side of death would trust him enough to let such a fucked up ordeal slide. He grinned at her, grabbing her face and kissing her. In return, static began to surround them both again, causing his ring to feel warm and tingly. It was weird, but he paid it little mind next to the strange sensation pouring from her.

When he let her go, she smiled weakly, before gazing down at her feet. "I guess you're wondering where everyone else is, huh?"

"Well, now that'cha mention it, yeah. What's the deal?" he asked, genuinely curious to what was actually going on.

"I sort of got pissed off and juiced myself away from them just to spare myself another lecture." she admitted, her face twisting into a worried half smile. "Dad and Delia seem okay with everything, but Adam and Barbara...They're impossible."

Of course those two piss stains would give his wife a hard time. They hated his guts. However, he'd almost fallen through that thin ice he was treading on once today, so he knew he'd have to proceed very fucking carefully from now on. "Yeah, well maybe they'll warm up over time."

"I'm not so sure of that." Lydia frowned, before growing wary again. "So...uh...Barbara told me something..."

"And just what the fuck would that be?" Beetle narrowed his eyes. He had an idea that ice was cracking underneath them both at the moment.


	23. Unsettling Realizations

Chapter 23: Unsettling Realizations

"Fuck..." Beetle groaned, placing his face in the palm of his hands. If he'd barely escaped Annie's little shitstorm, he realized that chances were he probably wouldn't make it through Barbara's. "She told ya THAT?!"

Lydia nodded slowly, looking away from him. "Is it true?"

Okay, he'd have to proceed VERY cautiously from here, he reasoned. He couldn't lie. That he knew. He just had to spill it and leave it there. "Look, that was a looong time ago, Babe. I hadn't even met ya yet, and I was kind of a horn dog, and she was kind of a woman, I guess..." he began, instantly wincing once the words left his grimy lips. Yeah, he was probably fucked.

"Good god." Lydia sighed, shaking her head. "_Really, BJ_?"

"Yeah, I know. It's gross as hell, and _believe me_, it ain't muh proudest moment." he admitted, feeling really disgusted that he'd ever did his whole horny pervert routine on that rabid shrew in the first place. "I hit on other chicks before we got together, too. You know that shit already, Babe. You've seen it. I quit all that when I thought I had a chance with ya."

"Yeah. I know, BJ. Barbara thinks she can convince me to leave." Lydia smirked, causing Beetlejuice to feel all kinds of relieved. However, he couldn't feel complete relief due to the fact that there was still a strange unease emanating from her.

"Uh...Do I need to start beggin' again?" he asked warily, ready to revert back to pussy-whipped mode at any moment, despite Lydia's seemingly chill attitude about it. She couldn't possibly be _that_ cool about all his shit, hence her strange, oozing static that was inwardly driving him insane.

"I mean, it is _really _fucking weird, but no. I'll just have to tune that out or something." she shrugged, though he could sense even more of that strange tension around her. She was calm, but her emotions were strangely mixed and saying otherwise. It was scary as hell.

"Sure ya don't want me tah beg?" he asked one more time, still not above groveling of any form.

"No, BJ. It's fine." she said, as the front door slammed loudly, jolting them both. "Shit! They're back." Lydia winced, sighing and looking all kinds of not happy.

* * *

Lydia walked past the living room, heading straight for the trusty rum in her liquor cabinet. She more or less ignored her parents, feeling exhausted and mentally drained from everything that had transpired up to that point. She pulled out the bottle and popped the top, filling a shot glass as she sat at the counter, ready to drown her sorrows. Boy, had she really fooled herself into thinking things wouldn't be quite this terrible.

She found it pretty damned ironic that she was in the exact same position she thought having her loved ones with her would take her away from. Unfortunately, if anything, having them around only pointed to the harsh reality of how much the people in her life couldn't stand her husband. If things kept going at this rate, Lydia doubted Barbara and Adam would ever come around. The only reason her father and Delia had let things slide was purely driven by their own selfish desires to stay comfortable rather than put up fighting with her. That did benefit her, though it didn't help the fact that everyone still found Beetlejuice to be completely repulsive, even when he was actually trying to get along.

She sighed, glancing over at her father, who was mindlessly sitting on her sofa watching television beside Delia and staying relatively quiet on the matter. Lydia knocked back a shot, before continuing her rumination while she promptly poured another. What made matters worse was the fact that she had to keep twisting the truth here and there when it came to BJ. If she had to be completely honest with herself, she wasn't so sure what Beetlejuice's intentions were anymore. His jealousy and controlling behavior aside, she wasn't so sure just what he'd been hiding from her all those years. Sure, she'd witheld the information that a voice had been repeatedly trying to contact her, but that was only because she knew he'd be such a paranoid asshole about it. When it came to Beetle, however, it seemed that there was much, much more to his odd behavior than he'd ever dared to tell her.

Despite keeping a calm demeanor in front of him, Lydia truly felt more lost and alone than ever. She couldn't help but to wonder if that strange woman was telling the truth about her husband. It didn't help matters that he'd practically wanted to bang her god mother at one time, even if that was a thing of the past. Actually, the past seemed to be the most gigantic obstacle of all. It was _his_ past, and it seemed to be haunting them both, reeking havoc on everyone they'd come into contact with time and again.

Therein was the problem. After years of putting up with the fact that he hadn't completely changed like she'd hoped, all this trouble that came sweeping back in made her wonder if things were ever going to change at all. Maybe he'd never really changed in the first place. Maybe his attempts to be civil were merely cover ups. Even more terrifying was the chance that everything between them could be one big lie. Truthfully, it didn't take a lot of negativity to make her doubt him again. Barbara and Adam were annoying the hell out of her, and she was glad they'd apparently retreated to their guest rooms for the evening, but she knew they had every right to feel the way that they did. Even if Beetle had changed, they'd seen far too much of his shitty behavior to take him lightly.

Now, her life had turned into a constant string of arguments with the people she loved most, and that was all due to Beetlejuice. Even her marriage had become a series of repeated back and forth fights and makeup sessions. Chaotic was the understatement of the century when it came to their relationship. If anything, she yearned for something simple enough to be called chaotic. That was more manageable than the shitstorm their marriage had festered into. Sure, BJ had shown a desire to change, but it never took long for some insane situation or behavior of his to knock her back to the ground. _Hard_. Lydia couldn't help but wonder if he may have completely reverted back to his old behavior at this point. Beetle had already proven that he witheld things from her. Who knew what he was _really_ hiding?

Truthfully, she was growing exhausted with everything. She turned away from her parents, wiping her eyes with a trembling hand, as her emotions began to seep out against her will. She really hoped BJ was telling the truth, due to the fact that she was hiding a secret of her own. It was something that she didn't really want to admit to even herself, and that was the fact that she was, quite literally, hanging by a thread when it came to staying with him at this point. Lydia felt that even the smallest error would be enough to cause her to leave for good. Hopefully, he wouldn't push her that far. Hopefully.


	24. Peace Negotiations and Plotting

Chapter 24: Peace Negotiations and Plotting

"Lydia, dear, can I talk to you?" Barbara's voice fell softly on her ears, as Lydia pulled her head up from her current sulking spot on her kitchen counter.

Lydia sighed, too exhausted and emotionally drained to put up that much of a fight. "What do you want, Barbara?"

Barbara forced a smile, placing her hand on top of Lydia's and squeezing it slightly. "Let's take a walk."

* * *

Beetle nervously paced about his bedroom, wondering just what the fuck to do now. He'd had not one, but TWO crazy broads attempt to make him look like more of an asshole than he already was, on top of the family reunion from hell, AND a wife who was playing hide and go seek with her real motives and emotions about all that shit. Not to mention, he still had a glittery, magical letter stuffed in his pants and a crazy mother-in-law to keep away while the fucking Deetz and Maitland onslaught was happening. Lydia's relatives hated his ass, her friends couldn't stand him, and he'd done the most dumb shit move imaginable out of desperation and forfeited his powers to his clearly disgruntled spouse.

"Shit!" he hissed, kicking the side of that giant, gaudy sex bed that he'd loved so dearly over the years, causing one side of it to buckle and thud heavily on the even gaudier shag carpet. "FUCK!" he growled, wanting very much to turn Adam and Barbara into Sandworm excrement just to make himself feel satisfied. Of course, he couldn't do that because he'd fucked up and handed his freaking powers over on a silver platter to Lydia, of all people! Now she could easily swat his ass like a fly on a pile of horseshit at any given moment for any perceived misstep. The worst aspect of all this fuckery was the fact that all his years of keeping potential marriage threats at bay were coming to an end, and he had no way whatsoever to stop it. People were coming out of the woodworks - people that he'd kept away until he couldn't. There were many glorious years of omitting truths and telling wonderfully calculated lies wasted, and those strategically built walls were now closing in on his ass!

He had to do something, and he had to act fast! "Damnit, I need those powers!" he growled to himself, kicking a satin, heart-shaped pillow across the room. He needed to control this shit, and quick! One more surprise visit from another disgruntled woman and he was done for, and that was a very real possibility at the moment. Nobody could come along and put more shit into his wife's head if they were blasted far, far away from her.

Beetle eyed the broken bed, finding it an eerie reminder of just how fucked up everything was. He needed a way to get those powers back, and after some deliberation, he realized that there was one sweaty, fat, nerdy fucker that could possibly help him with that little situation. "Hmm..." he began to smirk malevolently, rubbing his moldy chin. "Ole' Jerry Roll still has muh book. Might be time to pay him a little visit..."

He then realized, yet again, that his home was full of landmines such as the likes of Adam and Barbara Maitland, so he couldn't just waltz out the front door. He looked about himself, before eyeing the window and grinning like a madman. "Alright then. Later fuckers..." he muttered, before pushing a stack of beer crates underneath it to make his escape.

* * *

Lydia gazed at the horizon, watching the waves gently roll into the shore as Barbara stood beside her silently. Though it was unusual for the opinionated woman to remain so quiet, Lydia was glad that she wasn't being badgered into leaving her husband at the moment.

"Lydia..." Barbara began, as Lydia felt herself tense in response, hoping that this little talk that was about to ensue wouldn't end up in another argument. She was simply too drained at that point to do anything other than walk away, and that wasn't something Lydia enjoyed having to do to the people she loved so much.

She looked to Barbara, who was gazing at the sea, appearing somber. "I'm sorry we made you leave. That wasn't our intention. We just want what's best for you, Lydia. We're not trying to run you away."

Lydia sighed. "I know. I kind of knew shit would hit the fan sooner or later." she shrugged, accepting that it had, indeed, hit the fan and sprayed all over her current afterlife, and that it would be a challenge to steady things again. Honestly, that problem seemed to pale in comparison to the hidden doubt now looming inside of her.

"I know you've tried to explain everything, but after the way I've seen him treat you...The way he treated us...I guess I just don't understand what a nice girl like you sees in him." Barbara reiterated her former point, and though it was worthy of an eye roll, Lydia was relieved that Barbara was trying to talk it out and not persuade her to leave for once.

"You've only seen him at his worst." Lydia implored. "BJ's not a bad guy. When I crossed over to the Neitherworld, he didn't capture me. I came to him."

"So you told me." Barbara muttered, apparently not happy over that fact. "I still don't understand why you'd do that."

"Because he saved you guys. If it wasn't for BJ, I wouldn't have you here now. I felt guilty. He helped me save you, and we fed him to a Sandworm." Lydia continued, as Barbara eyed her warily.

"Well, he shouldn't have tried to marry you. You were a little girl, Lydia! If he was the good guy you claim he is, then why didn't he just help us without all the strings attached?" she huffed, her irritation shining through despite her attempts to remain calm.

"Because he was desperate. The marriage was just a business deal, that's it. I told you he just wanted out. He's helped me out a lot since then. I told you he helped me find out the truth about my death. He went to jail for a decade and didn't rat me out for trying to help him leave the Neitherworld. Actually, he came back a changed guy. I mean, I've given you a laundry list of things, Barbara, but you won't believe me. I don't know what else I can say..." Lydia shrugged, looking away from Barbara and feeling that familiar hopelessness trickle back inside herself.

"You don't have to explain yourself anymore, Lydia." Barbara grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. "I don't like it, and if I ever do get used to _him _being with you, it's going to take a miracle. But...obviously what we're doing isn't working. We're pushing you away, and that's the last thing any of us wants. We've missed our little girl for so long..." she smiled genuinely, helping to lighten the burden Lydia was carrying when it came to them. "That car crash took you from us too soon, and ever since you left the Neitherworld we've missed you just as much as we did when you first left us."

Lydia smiled warmly, seeing Barbara's angst gradually reside over the matter, replaced by that motherly love she'd known all too well. "I missed you guys, too..." she said, before pausing briefly. Maybe things were looking up for a change. Maybe her doubts were unfounded. Perhaps that numbskull husband of hers was telling the truth. Maybe. "So, does this mean you will actually try to get along with him? No arguments?"

Lydia watched as Barbara inhaled deeply, apparently bracing herself for her reply. "No arguments. As long as he doesn't provoke me." she warned.

"Good enough." Lydia shrugged, smirking.

"Just don't let him break your heart like the first one did." Barbara chided, her protective nature evident in her words.

"Well, I'm dead already, so he can't run me over and kill me, anyway." Lydia chuckled darkly, watching Barbara shake her head.

"That's not funny." Barbara said, though Lydia noticed her smirk ever so faintly.


	25. Desperate Measures

Chapter 25: Desperate Measures

Beetlejuice stood at the entrance of the home of none other than Lydia's sweaty, nerdy friend that never seemed to go away, no matter how many times he'd previously wished for it. Today, however, he was quite pleased that the fat little fucker was still around, due to the fact that, if anything, the Jerrymeister was a bookworm who just so happened to have his old book, and quite possibly a solution to his little power depletion dilemma.

He sighed, not amused to actually have to talk to the dweeb to get his little plan rolling. "Here goes nothin'..." Beetle grumbled to himself, as he began to knock on the front door of the small hut.

A short moment later, said door opened. Beetle watched the color drain from Gerald's face upon seeing him, which proved to be both strangely satisfying and utterly annoying. "Oh, uh, what can I do for you?" he yipped, as Beetle smirked in smug amusement.

"Good question, Jerr! I thought ya'd never ask!" he exclaimed, blatantly stepping forward into tubby boy's personal space and causing him to instinctively step back into his home. Beetle leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms and glaring just enough to intimidate the little fucker, which wasn't that hard to accomplish. "I need ya to do me a solid, kapeesh?"

"Oh?" Gerald appeared shocked, while backing up an extra step. "What can I help you with?"

Beetlejuice stepped into Gerald's home, slamming the door behind him, and causing Lydia's little pal to nearly jump out of that fat suit he called a body. "I'll spare ya the details. I gotta' problem, ya see? I sorta' handed muh powers over to the little wifey, and she ain't gonna give 'em back any time soon. Thing is, that would be fine an' dandy if I didn't need to keep some unsavory fuckwads away, but I kinda' do. Get muh drift?" He walked up to the nerd, practically getting in his face for the sole purpose of showing the urgency in this situation. "Bottom line: I need ya to get that little evil tome ya got stashed away in yer nerdy shit collection and find my ass a way to get muh powers back."

"Oh..." he watched as Gerald's expression dropped. "I'm afraid I can't," he winced.

"HUH?!" Beetle grunted. "What do you mean you can't?!" he growled, causing ole' Jerrycurl to cover his face in fear.

"I-I'm sorry, , but I've studied that tome cover to cover over the years. There's no way for another being to interfere with your curse. Unfortunately, that means only Lydia can grant you those powers again." Gerald stammered, looking like he was suddenly in great need of an adult diaper.

Beetle began to feel that awful, sinking feeling inside himself that told him he was probably in real, uncontrollable trouble this time. Gerald had always been a handy little shit to have around when things got rough. Hell, he'd even helped Lydia save his own ass when things became impossible back in the Neitherworld. Now, even that glimmer of hope was getting snuffed out right before his eyes.

Beetlejuice sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and dropping his tough act for once. "Fuck.." he muttered to himself, feeling truly fearful, as he seated himself in an antique rocking chair.

"A-are you alright, ?" Gerald asked timidly, apparently freaked out by Beetle's unusual demeanor. Honestly, he didn't give a shit at that point. He'd just realized he was currently in too deep to care.

"Not really, pal..." he shook his head, looking at the floor and feeling like a dumb shit for allowing his circumstances to get so out of hand. "I think I blew it."

"What?" Gerald asked, seeming confused as he seated himself on his sofa, dabbing at his sweaty face with a handkerchief. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Eh...Ya wouldn't. Lydia ain't been around to tell ya all our shit like she normally does." he muttered, clasping his hands together nervously. "And before ya ask, yeah, that was my doin'."

He watched Gerald frown slightly. "Yes, I'm aware. Lydia informed me the last time she was here."

Beetle scowled, feeling like a complete asshole for keeping her away. "Figures." He paused for a moment, before giving all fucks away and spilling his guts. "Did she tell ya I was the one who kept her folks away, too?"

He watched as Gerald's eyes grew wide with surprise. "Oh, no. I didn't know..."

"That's cause _she_ don't even know that. Now they're here, and all this crazy shit I've been lyin' my ass off about is closin' in on me. I got desperate, cause I think she's figurin' me out, ya know? So I practically handed my powers over to her ass to calm her down! Now I have not the slightest fuckin' clue how I'm gonna fix this. Now _you_ can't even help my ass, and I was bankin' on that shit like no tomorrow, knowhaddimean?" he admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose as a dull ache began to form in his brain.

The room grew strangely silent, before Gerald spoke again, pulling Beetle from his whirlwind thoughts. "Perhaps, there's _another_ way I can help you..."

Beetle raised a brow, feeling a bit baffled by the little twat's suddenly helpful attitude. "And just WHY would ya wanna do that? I know ya probably hate my ass, and chances are that probably is a _definitely_. I ain't got any ideas, I ain't tryin' to scare yer ass right now, and YOU wanna help ME? Gimme a fuckin' break..." he muttered, watching Gerald frown.

"Forgive me, Mr. Juice, but did it ever occur to you that I have _Lydia's_ best interests in mind? Perhaps I'm not doing this solely for you. Lydia is a dear friend to me, and the last time I had the pleasure of speaking to her, she wasn't very happy with your behavior. Come to think of it, that had become a constant complaint in her life." he said, somehow growing a tiny, barely visible set of gonads for once and surprising Beetlejuice with his newfound attitude.

"Oh, ya don't say?" Beetle growled, getting pissed off over the fact that Lydia had to go running to that geek time and again, like she was always apt to do. "What'd ya do, tell her to leave my ass, too? I know everyone else sure the hell has."

"No, actually." Gerald answered, straightening and appearing a bit indignant. "I _used _to tell her to leave you, but that was many years ago, and she never did. I stopped telling her that when I realized she cared for you too much to do such a thing."

Upon hearing his words, Beetlejuice snarled his lip, wanting greatly to turn the little fuckwad inside out for ever suggesting such a thing, but despite his impulses, he knew deep down that Gerald probably had his dumb shit reasons to feel that way too. He exhaled slowly, attempting to calm himself down so he didn't screw up the miniscule chance he had left of obtaining some kind of help. "Okay, pal..." he muttered, trying his best not to be a douchebag, though the urge was great. "What do ya suggest?"

Gerald materialized a cup of tea in his hand, before leaning back on his sofa and appearing not unlike some kind of smug, shithead therapist, which was too fucked for Beetle to even wrap his mind around. What was the butterball going to do, tell him he had mommy issues and throw a bottle of pills his way? On that mental note, Beetle cleared his throat awkwardly, trying not to let the overwhelming weirdness of this particular situation cause him to throw himself to the sharks. "Based solely on what Lydia tells me, you're jealous, you don't try to welcome the people she loves into your own life, and you enjoy being controlling. Would you say that is accurate?" Gerald scrutinized him, equally unsettling him and making him feel all kinds of pissed.

Beetle glared at the chubby little shitstain, imagining a thousand ways to wipe that smug look off his face, and feeling deeply upset that he had no means of doing just that. However, now wasn't the time to fantasize about taking a blowtorch to Jerrymonger's mug. Truthfully, he was in terrible need of any help thrown his way, and he knew that. Besides, there may have been a _teensy-weensy _speck of truth to what Jerry had asked him. Beetle sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Er...Yeah. Guess it is."

"I see..." Gerald said, studying him like a lab rat and making him feel about as trapped as one. "May I ask you something?"

"Shoot." Beetle grunted warily.

"Why?" his brow furrowed, appearing genuinely confused.

"The fuck?! Whaddaya mean _'why'_?" Beetlejuice glared, his fists clenching automatically in defense.

"Just what I said." Jerrycurl stated defiantly, somehow still not backing down like the scared little cunt he was prone to be. "Lydia loves you. Why do you feel the need to act that way?"

Okay, now he was _actually_ pissed. "Oh, I dunno...Maybe cause the last time I let her do what she wanted, the Feds tried to murder my ass! AGAIN! Maybe 'cause every dipshit she ran into, and that includes YOUR ASS," he spat, standing up from his seat and wagging his moldy green finger in Gerald's direction, "tried to get her away from me! You know what I did when I got outta jail? I tried to be a decent fuckin' guy. I had no intentions of bein' a shit to her! SHE didn't want to be with ME, not the other way around. LYDIA had doubts, not ME!"

Gerald sat there, eyeing him over. "I know. Lydia told me everything long ago. Believe me when I say that she blames herself, which she most certainly shouldn't."

"Ya think I don't know that? She couldn't trust me. If I was her, I probably wouldn't have, either." Beetle shrugged, feeling that shitty guilty feeling trickle back inside himself. "Look, I know I'm a dickwad. I don't deserve her, but I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do if that happens again. You want the truth? I don't want anymore assholes to tear us apart, but it looks like it's gonna happen no matter what the fuck I do. I couldn't lie to her about her folks any longer, so I had to turn in those fuckin' letters...Now they're here, and they hate my ass like no tomorrow. They're already trying like hell to take me down. I've got a crazy jealous broad I banged some six hundred odd years ago tryin' to start shit with muh wife. Oh, yeah, and let's not forget this little crown jewel I'm holdin' onto for dear afterlife!" he fumed, yanking the glittery, magical letter from his back pocket. "Oh, yeah. This is the maraschino cherry on top of my giant, ten layered 'fuck you' cake!" he snarled, shaking it in Gerald's face and causing him to wince.

"...A letter? Who is it?" Gerald asked softly, already familiar with the summoning process, as were most residents of Paradise.

"If ya didn't think I was an asshole before, yer really not gonna like me now..." he warned, smirking from the irony of it all. The more he really tried to be a decent guy, the more he fucked it all up, and the more he wasn't really a good guy at all. "Did Lydia ever tell ya about Delia, the step hag?"

"Yes. Why?" Gerald asked, appearing baffled concerning his question.

"Emphasis on STEP. This here belongs to the REAL DEAL. Not the one Salvador Dali himself would tell to fuck off." he glared, waving the letter about.

"You mean her real mother?" Gerald continued, brows furrowed.

"Oh yeah. I know the broad _personally_. I ran into her. Couldn't mistake her if I tried. She acts just like Lydia, thinks like her, and she even looks like muh wife, and THAT I don't like cause it's weird an' it gives me all kinds of freaky dreams an' shit, but I digress..." he paused, clearing his throat and trying NOT to think about said dreams. "Guess what, chubby boy? I lied to her ass, too. I kept her away. On PURPOSE. Her parents and those fucking Maitlands are tryin' to drive a wedge between our asses as it is. I couldn't have another psycho relative tryin' to get her away from me. So, yeah, I'm not just an asshole, I'm THE asshole, Jerryboy. If that wasn't clear before, it sure as hell is now..." he growled, shoving the letter back into his pocket. "Now what do you suggest that I do?"

The room grew quiet for a moment, as Gerald studied to himself. After what seemed like an eternity had passed, he finally began to speak. "You may not like what I have to say, Mr. Juice..." he warned, appearing apprehensive.

"Pfffft! I never like what ya have to say! Now, what the hell is it?!" he asked, throwing his arms out in exasperation.

"Very well. I know we are both fully aware that what you are doing is not only wrong, but grossly ineffective," he began, causing Beetle to scowl.

"You come up with that all by yerself, Jerrymonger? What gave it away?" he grunted sarcastically, clearly not amused by the obvious statement.

"Ahem." Gerald cleared his throat with a look of disdain, before continuing. "Now that tome Lydia gifted me. As I said, I've studied it from cover to cover, time and again, due to fascination alone. It speaks of the laws of our universe, and though it has some telling rules and information, I can't use that to help you. However, it really is simple, if you truly want to keep Lydia in your afterlife."

"What do you think?" Beetle glared, wishing he'd just get the fuck on with it.

"I'm serious, Mr. Juice. This will only help if you are truly willing to keep her around. I know Lydia. She's a lovely soul, but even the most patient, caring person has a breaking point. With the way you're acting, Mr. Juice, I believe it is closer than ever to that point. I know you've never been fond of me, so if you're coming to me for help, it speaks volumes of the urgency inside of you." Gerald stated, his words somehow cutting and sharp, which was a shock to even Beetle himself.

"Uh...Yeah, yer right." he muttered, shrugging defeatedly, knowing all too well that his wife was teetering on her emotions even now. "So what do I do?"

"From what I've observed, there are only two things you can do to rectify the situation. First, you have to reach out to your enemies. You have to take the initiative and show Lydia that you are willing to do whatever it takes to make it right with her family." he explained.

Beetle snarled, feeling the urge to gag on his own vomit. "Hey, I'm toleratin' their asses as it is. What are we, the fuckin' Waltons? That shit'll never fly..."

"I know you aren't exactly thrilled with this idea, but it's not about what you want, it's about Lydia. You can't just passively sit by and wait for them to leave. It won't work." he reminded Beetle.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it." Beetlejuice huffed, waving dismissively. "So what's the second part?"

"You can't keep hiding these other people from Lydia any longer. She deserves to know about her mother. And anyone that comes back from your past will just keep coming back no matter what you do. In other words, you can't stop this from occuring. You can't stop the inevitable, Mr. Juice." Gerald warned, his serious expression clear and sobering to see.

"Fuck..." Beetle growled, placing a grimy hand on his hip. "So yer tellin' me I'm supposed to just sit back and let shit blow up? I CAN'T do that shit! She'll leave my ass!"

Gerald stood up, pacing about the room calmly, somehow seeming completely unafraid of Beetle for once in his afterlife. "Didn't you let Lydia live her own life when you first came here together? Didn't everything work out? She didn't leave you then. What happened to that? Why the sudden change?"

"The fuck is this, twenty questions?!" Beetle spat defensively, hating like hell to be put on the spot by that sniveling dweeb. Why did she have to tell Gerald so much shit about him, anyway?

"You DO want my help, don't you?" Jerrycurl asked with an heir of defiance, giving Beetle the urge to shove his little teacup where the sun didn't shine.

Of course, he was more than fucked already, so now wasn't the time to inflate his fragile, de-nutted shell of an ego. "_Unfortunately." _

"Then why?" he continued, not deviating from his interrogation.

"I knew I didn't deserve her. It was easier that way. I thought it would probably stay like that once she came here and met some young muscle head who'd treat her nice. I just let that shit be. Instead, she met a young, gay fucker and decided she'd stick with my dumbass. Shocked the shit outta' me..." he muttered, scratching the back of his head. "I didn't believe it, but I wasn't gonna turn _that_ down. I mean, look at me! I'm a walkin' garbage heap! I'd be an idiot if I said no! Not to a once in an afterlife chance of bein' with her! I guess, it was just easier bein' friend-zoned for all eternity." he explained, as he calmed himself, sitting back down and staring at the floor.

"You do really care for her, don't you..." Gerald mused, seating himself closer to Beetle and causing him to fidget, ironically enough. Yeah, spilling his guts to Gerald wasn't ideal, but it had to be done, apparently.

"Of course I do. I ain't never met someone so fuckin' perfect in mah life. She hates when I call her that, though, even if it's true. That gal's not like anyone I've ever met. When she wanted to be with the likes of me, it changed everything. I couldn't lose what I didn't have in the first place, but once I had her...It made me go ape shit, ya know? I don't know what I'd do without her. That's why I started actin' like an asshat. I knew her folks would want to hang my ass out to dry the minute they stepped in my view. What can I say? Their last little rendezvous with my ass included an active hostage situation. I can't say I blame 'em. The jealousy, the shitty stuff I've done...Yeah, it's all on me." he admitted, and it was not even a remotely good feeling to do so.

"You can't control her, Mr. Juice. You have to let things be. Your will only push her away, otherwise. You need to tell her the truth, before it's too late." Gerald warned.

Beetle glared at him, growing increasingly annoyed by his pushiness. "And what about that reachin' out shit? Whaddaya suggest I do?" he deflected, not intending on spilling the beans to his wife and practically handing his ass over on a silver platter..._again._

Gerald studied a moment. "For starters, I'd invite them to do something special with you. Reach out. If that doesn't work, try again. You have to show Lydia you are willing to do ANYTHING for her."

"Yeah...I don't like that ANYTHING word, but I guess I'll try..." Beetle grumbled, standing and heading toward the door. It was apparent that Gerald was full of whiny, weepy, do-good philosophy bullshit, anyway. Maybe he could reach out or whatever, but he couldn't just turn his ass in. He wasn't that stupid.

"Do try, Mr. Juice. Remember, Lydia did whatever it took for you. That's why you're here." Gerald reminded him, causing his insides to shrivel up and die just a little more than they already were.

"Yeah, she did." Beetle muttered, feeling the reality of just how selfless his wife had been. He knew he'd have to try in some way or another, but he couldn't tell her the truth about just how terrible he'd been. He didn't want to lose everything. "I'll uh...see ya 'round, Jerry..." he grunted, his back to Lydia's friend, brooding as he paced out the front door.


	26. Atonement (Sort of)

Chapter 26: Atonement (Sort of)

Beetle sat on the shore, tossing seashells into the waves and sulking. He knew Gerald had been right about everything, but that didn't mean he wanted to pounce on the opportunity to do everything he'd suggested. However, he did decide he'd take the lesser of the two evils and do the reaching out shit. It was better than admitting he was a damnable shithead, anyway.

"Ugh...Fuck me..." he groaned, laying back in the sand, listening to the waves lap at the beach, among chuckling, happy fuckers that he couldn't care less about. The one person he did care about, however, was on his mind, and he needed to throw some shit together and try for her sake.

"What tuh do, what tuh do?" he grunted, coming up short on ideas. What did those brain-dead morons enjoy doing? Bitching? Check. Complaining? Check. Hating his ass? Double check. Even more relevant, was just what could he stomach doing with them? Honestly, he could tolerate little more than breathing and taking up space in the same room with their asses.

He watched as a giant cruise ship came into view, among various sailboats and such off in the distance. As he watched it move in closer, he noted various drunken people partying on top of it. An old man seemed to be blowing chunks off one end of the vessel while a drunken chick about Lydia's age began flashing the beach, causing Beetle to sit up and snort in amusement.

"Heh...Dumb fucks..." he chuckled, before feeling something prod him in the side. "Hey! What the fuck're-" he began, before stopping mid-sentence, as he locked eyes with his wife, who was now staring down at him. "Oh, hey Babe. I, uh, didn't see ya there."

"What are you doing, BJ?" she asked, appearing puzzled. "I didn't see you leave."

"Er...I just needed some space, ya know?" he shrugged, looking off in the distance, as another woman began to strip her clothes off on the deck and dance around to some shitty pop music blasting from the boat. Despite its obvious debauchery, maybe he could tolerate a ship filled with copious amounts of alcohol and ample room to vomit.

"Are you watching that?" Lydia asked hesitantly, pointing to the naked participants on said cruise ship.

"Huh?" his head whipped around so quick he looked like he needed holy water splashed in his face. "No, Babe. I was thinkin' about somethin'..." he stood and stepped up to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her into him. "I kinda' had an' idea."

She looked up at him, her features lined with confusion and a hint of distrust. "And what's that?"

"I was thinkin' about yer family an' all..." he trailed off a moment, thinking of how he'd actually approach the matter. Could he tolerate the likes of _Barbara _in a confined space? The answer to that was an emphatic _fuck no_. Delia wasn't much better. Perhaps the best approach would be to divide and conquer.

"What about them?" Lydia interrupted his thoughts, patiently waiting for whatever he was about to spew forth this time.

"I think we kinda' got off on the wrong foot, ya get me?" he began.

"No kidding." Lydia sighed, smirking.

"I was thinkin'. Maybe I could do somethin' to offer the ole' olive branch, ya know? _Reach out_, so to speak." he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noting that she seemed surprised.

"And just what do you plan to do, BJ?" Lydia asked, appearing sincerely curious.

"I thought maybe me an' the boys could have some bonding time, ya know? Maybe I'll take 'em out somewhere." he shrugged, nonchalantly, eyeing the cruise ship.

"You're not wanting to take them on the Booze Cruise, are you?" she backed away from him, folding her arms.

"Maybe." he grinned, widely.

"And just WHY would you do that, BJ? Look." she huffed, pointing to the crowds of half-naked chicks and dudes mooning them over the deck.

"I know it looks bad, Babe, but where you see nothin' but tits and ass, I see a world of opportunity." he drawled, his grin spreading wider.

"Explain." she raised a brow, appearing more skeptical than ever.

"What better way could one find to show your Pops and Barbara's lap dog what a good boy I am than to plop me right smack into a sea of T&A! Let 'em see for themselves, Babe! They can WATCH me behave! It's fuckin' genious!" he cackled, feeling like he was, indeed, sharp as hell for that one.

"Are you _sure_ that's why you want to go?" Lydia asked, still appearing unconvinced. Honestly, that kind of hurt, though he didn't show it. If anything, it was a stark reminder of just how deep he'd fallen. She never seemed to worry about that kind of thing in their marriage before. It was always him that had questioned her every move, not the other way around. In some strange way, he began to understand just how she may have felt all that time.

"Babe, I ain't gonna _do_ anything." his maniacal grin faded, as his voice dropped. "I wouldn't do ya that way. I'm kinda desperate right now. I just wanna show 'em I ain't gonna hurt ya. Do ya trust me to do that?" he asked in earnest, finding himself feeling more vulnerable than he'd ever intended to.

He watched as she looked him over for the longest time, the whole time feeling that strange mixture of confused emotions flow from her. It was terrifying, but he held back his own feelings in an attempt to hide them as best he could. "You may have a point. That may be just what they need. You know what? Go for it. You're trying. I won't stop you, BJ." she smiled faintly, though he could still feel her doubt and hurt lingering faintly in the air.

"I won't stop tryin', Babe." he made it a point to say, causing her to grin just a fraction more.

"I guess I'd better go back." she shrugged, turning away from him. "I'll break the news to them as gently as I can." she smirked, looking down at the ground.

"Hey, wait!" he found himself grabbing her by the wrist. "Don't leave yet! I just got ya alone for a few minutes!" he practically found himself begging her to stay.

When Lydia smiled widely, he felt a bit relieved inside. "Fine, you talked me into it." she chuckled, as he pulled her over to his former pondering spot.

They sat in the sand, and Lydia materialized two icy beers, handing one over to him.

"You know just what I need, Babe." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Well, I figured you could use one, considering you haven't been around your stash all day." she replied, her eyes fixated on the cruise ship in the distance. "That's unusual for you, BJ."

"Eh, what can I say? I'm full ah' surprises." he said, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

"Good ones, I hope." Lydia laughed, though he could tell she was still apprehensive about him.

"Always." he snorted, taking a drink of his beer and knowing that Lydia realized he was full of shit. "I'm practically an angel!"

It was pretty fuckin' hilarious to watch her nearly spew her beer. "Yeah. Sure."

"What?! I'm here in Paradise, amirite?" he continued feigning innocence, watching her shake her head at him. It was nice to see her grin, though a genuine smile like that seemed rare these days. With that thought, Beetle sighed a little, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Seriously, though. I'm gonna try real hard to fix this shit, Babe. I want ya to know that." Beetle dropped his act, hoping to make her see that he wasn't a totally unforgivable jizz rag.

"Well, thanks for trying." she gave another half-smile, and that small glimmer of her sadness was causing his heart to drop. He really, truly hoped he hadn't pushed her past all hope.

"No thanks necessary, Babe. I'm the reason they all hate me. I gotta try harder to fix this shit, for you if nothin' else. You deserve better." he shrugged, taking another drink of booze to mask his ever-growing discomfort. Suddenly, his ring began to feel warm and tingly again. What was even more disturbing was the fact that he'd noticed Lydia beginning to fiddle with her own ring at that very moment. "Uh, somethin' wrong?" he narrowed his eyes in on her hand, waiting for her reaction.

"Huh? Oh, no. Not really." she deflected, looking away from him again. What was going on with her?

Beetle had no idea why this weird ring shit was happening, and that, of course, began to disturb him to no end. However, his wife wasn't willing to say anything about it, even though it was obviously happening to her as well. Shit was real weird, and he didn't like it.

The only thing he felt he could do in his favor was reassure her. "Well, ya know you can talk to me if ya need anything, Babe. I'm not gonna be a dickwad about things anymore."

"Thanks, BJ. I'll keep that in mind." she replied, though Beetle could feel that damned sadness lingering inside of her still.

It was honestly killing his hopes, but he had to press onward, regardless. He'd actually considered telling her the truth at this point, but quickly reminded himself that he'd permanently fuck himself over if that came to fruition. In other words, he was bound to silence.

Lydia wiggled the now empty beer in her hand. "You'll be happy to know Barbara agreed to be civil to you. I think she and Adam were feeling bad for constantly harrassing me." she smirked. "Maybe that means they'll try a little, too."

"Eh...Maybe." Beetle didn't believe that shit for one second. "Either way, I'm not givin' up."

"You seem awfully determined..." Lydia furrowed her brow, seeming confused by his apparent change in demeanor.

This truly spoke volumes about how little he'd tried before. Man, he really had been a prick. "Well sure, Babe. I love ya. Why wouldn't I be?"

He watched as her face twisted in a mixture of bewilderment and what seemed almost like disgust. That wasn't the reaction he'd anticipated. She was now staring at him silently, and that caused his insides to plummet. "Lydia? You okay?" he asked, suddenly feeling helpless.

"Yeah. You just..." she hesitated.

"Just what?" Beetle's eyes narrowed in on her.

"You don't say that kind of thing out of nowhere, BJ. You're not acting like yourself." she admitted, eyeing him warily.

"Oh, you mean acting like a dickhole? Yeah, I'm not doin' that to ya anymore. I told ya, Babe." he insisted, though it seemed she wasn't buying it.

"Is this about Barbara? And that woman? Is that why you're being so nice?" she ignored his statement, interrogating him some more and causing him to squirm like a worm in a pile of horse shit. Unfortunately, it was time to be honest again.

"Ugh. Yes, Babe. All that shit. I wanna do the right thing. I don't want you to hate my ass and leave. I don't want yer folks to hate me enough to make you leave. Bottom line: I don't want you to leave my ass, Lydia! I want to do better. I'm not cheatin', I'm not lookin' elsewhere, an' I ain't runnin' you away! So, yeah, I am actin' different. I fucked shit up. I'm tryin' to fix it. So, please. Let me fix it." He begged, once again, like the dumb little bitch he truly was. "Whatever ya need to know. I'm an open book, Babe!" he pleaded, throwing out his arms and sloshing his remaining beer into the ocean. "I know you got yer doubts. This curse-bond shit won't let me forget that, but ya gotta trust me on this one. I want ya around. Don't EVER doubt that!" Again, his ring felt even warmer on his finger. "WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THIS RING?!" he fumed, losing his temper in exasperation from having to beg and plead to his wife for the hundredth time.

Lydia's eyes grew wide. "Yours is doing that weird tingly thing, too?"

"Yeah..." he groaned miserably, with not the slightest fucking clue as to why their rings were spazzing out, and worrying it was for the worst fucking reason. "Look, I dunno why this shit is happenin'. Just don't leave me, Babe. I know you're considerin' it. I can feel it. Don't do it."

"BJ..." Lydia said softly, immediately catching his attention. "I didn't know you felt that."

"Fuck, Lydia. How could I not? Shit, I ain't ever had to beg so much in mah whole afterlife. You do still give a fuck about me, don't ya?" he asked in desperation, now feeling like he'd sealed his fate as a permenant man bitch forever. If they ever were to get past this shit, she'd probably never let him live this down.

Suddenly, her expression lightened and the air around them seemed to feel light and breezy once more. She smiled, her eyes turning glassy. "I guess I'm not as good at hiding my emotions as I thought...Thanks, BJ. I really needed to hear that right now." she spoke, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tightly. He breathed a sigh of relief, squeezing her back. He didn't care if he'd turned into the ultimate man bitch. So what if his wife was turning him into more of a sappy shit face by the second? It was worth it if it would keep her around.

"So, you don't hate me?" he pulled away, asking her in sincerety.

"Of course not. I shouldn't have doubted you. I did that before." she sniffed, wiping at her face in embarrassment. "I'm not going to do it again. If you're willing to fix things, then so am I. All I want is your honesty, BJ."

He looked into her pretty brown eyes glittering in the sunlight. She was a mesmerizing sight, and something inside himself wanted to truly make things right between them. "You got it, Lydia." he grinned, placing his finger under her chin and pulling her into him as he kissed her soft lips. He felt that comforting hum of electricity between them, giving him a glimmer of hope again. However, something deep inside didn't feel quite right, causing him to open his eyes, studying over her pale features. It was the thing he was still holding onto for dear afterlife. It wasn't that he wanted to hide anything else from her. He just felt that he HAD to.

Her smile faded ever so slightly as their lips parted, showing him that she had, indeed, felt it too. She'd felt the thing he was still holding onto, even though he thought he'd buried it deep enough for her not to find it. "I guess it's time to go back and face the music." she said quietly, standing up, as Beetle hesitantly followed her lead. She turned to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. Her twinkling eyes held that same sadness that never would completely leave. "Just do the right thing, BJ."

He nodded apprehensively, knowing that even though she was far too kind to start another fight, she had felt the truth. He swallowed hard, following behind her and hoping against hope that his ass wouldn't be out the door sooner than he'd expected.

He was still hiding things from her, in plain sight. He was still a liar, and she knew it.


	27. The Olive Branch

Chapter 27: The Olive Branch

"HE'S WHAT?" Adam's face scrunched up in disdain, after Lydia had broken the news to the two unfortunate males about to be accompanied by the likes of her husband.

"C'mon, Bud, it'll be swell!" BJ grinned widely, stepping over and slapping him on the back, while Lydia watched in what could only be called amused horror. Adam himself made it a point to back away from her antagonizing spouse. "Just think of it." Beetle continued, throwing an arm around her father and causing him to damn near jump out of his skin. "Just us three amigos! That ship is a fuckin' goldmine! It's got plenty ah' food, casinos, and let's not forget that bitch holds enough alcohol to kill us all twice! We'll do all that weird male bonding shit ya hear about on TV! Besides..." he continued, squeezing Charles and causing him to shriek. "I think we might'ah got off on the wrong foot, ya know?"

"You think?" Adam remarked, causing Beetle to shoot him a quick, telling glare before continuing.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah...I get it. I'm the dickhead." Beetlejuice muttered, as Lydia studied him, secretly wondering if he'd behave himself or just snap back into lunatic mode at any second. "Like it or not, Buddy, I'm practically yer spiritual son-in-law, so the sooner our asses learn to play nice, the better. Get mah drift?" he grunted, finally releasing her now very relieved father.

"Lydia, are you sure that cruise is a good idea? Don't you think it's a bit much for three married men?" Barbara chimed in, obviously not pleased with Beetle's particular brand of entertainment for reasons Lydia herself wasn't so secure about.

"Sure she's sure!" Beetlejuice interjected, glaring daggers at Barbara. "What's wrong, Babs? Ya worried ole' Adam will see somethin' he likes?" Beetle grinned deviously, raising a brow.

Barbara paused after her Beetle's little remark, obviously holding back for Lydia's sake. "No. Adam wouldn't do that. Right, Adam?" she asked, looking to her husband.

"Of course not!" Adam replied indignantly.

"Then what's the deal?!" Beetle huffed impatiently, grabbing a box of cigars off the table and lighting one.

"I just don't think it's a good idea." Barbara shrugged, arms crossed in protest. "Out of all the places you could go, why would you go on something like _that_?"

"Why the fuck not?" Beetle grouched, causing Lydia to sigh through her nose in irritation. Truthfully, she pondered on the very same thing, but she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Again.

"Have you seen what's on those party boats, Lydia?" Adam asked her, his expression wary and sober.

"Well..._yeah_." she replied, feeling a little foolish for actively letting Beetle on a ship full of naked girls and alcohol. Somehow, this whole ordeal was making her feel more idiotic by the second. Seeing the way her family reacted to his scatter-brained idea was merely the cherry on top of her pile of already brimming doubts. However, another part of her wanted to test it. Maybe this little scheme of his would reveal what was really on his mind. Maybe he needed a chance to mess up, if that's what he was hiding in the first place. Honestly, Lydia wasn't so sure what was off about him, but it was something he was trying to keep as hidden as possible. She could feel it inside of him. Either way, she'd made her choice earlier, and she reasoned that sticking to it was in her best interest, no matter how things ultimately turned out.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Pumpkin?" her father quipped nervously, avoiding eye contact with Beetle.

"Ah' course she's okay with it, Pops!" Beetle cackled, slapping Charles on the back. He then turned to make eye contact with her, meeting her with a menacing little grin that was probably due to his stupid plan. Unfortunately, Lydia couldn't fully trust him at this point, but she wasn't about to let that show.

"We'd like to hear that from _her._" Barbara snapped, causing Beetle to scowl.

"Maybe you're gettin' those granny panties in a wad over this shit, but muh wife ain't! Maybe you need to loosen up, Babs!" he growled, looking over to Charles. "Pops, is yer wife worried this much?"

"Uh, not likely." Charles replied hesitantly.

"Where is Delia, anyway?" Adam questioned.

"She's in our guest bedroom. She's turned it into her own personal studio." Charles muttered, fidgeting uncomfortably. "She said her muse is speaking to her... "

"Well, see? Little Miss Delia could give two shits!" Beetle snorted with much satisfaction, turning to Barbara. "Now are we gonna do this shit or what?"

Barbara ignored him, turning to Lydia with a concerned expression etched on her features. "Are you _really _okay with this?"

"Yeah. Go ahead and tell her, Babe." Beetle interrupted, his smug expression falling a bit when she found herself hesitating. She looked into his eyes, somehow feeling a bit of worry beneath his surface. "Right, Babe?" he asked, appearing puzzled when Lydia said nothing.

Lydia wanted to say a lot of things, mostly about how terrible his constant shittiness had made her ultimately feel, but she knew now wasn't the time for that. She wished there wasn't so much doubt and distrust inside of her, but there it was, all the same. However, she did want to give him a chance, no matter how slim of a chance that was. "...Of course. It was partly my idea." she finally spoke, shrugging nonchalantly. In turn, that little remark gained her a skeptical look of disbelief from each of her family members.

"NOW are we doin' this er what?" Beetle growled, spewing smoke everywhere.

Finally, the two men reluctantly nodded, as a devilish grin spread across her husband's smug face. "Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' 'bout! I'm gonna show you fellas a REAL good time!" he cackled, blowing smoke in Adam's face. He then turned to Barbara, "Don't worry, Babs. I'm gonna take reeeeaal good care of ole' Adam, here! He'll have a new respect fer me when I'm done with him!"

* * *

Lydia stood by the shore, waiting alongside her husband as he fumbled around with his luggage. "Sure would be a lot lighter to travel if I had muh powers back..." he muttered, before catching himself. "Uh, but it's all good, Babe. You deserve 'em anyway." he chuckled nervously, dropping a ridiculously overfilled suitcase in the sand.

She couldn't help but to smirk at his antics. If nothing else, Beetle had always been an entertaining sleazebag. Time would only tell if he'd remain _her_ sleazebag, however. Hopefully, he'd find a way to make her believe in him again instead of giving her another reason on her proverbial laundry list of why she should leave his ass and never look back.

"Just behave yourself." Lydia remarked, handing him the bulging suitcase. "Don't cause any trouble for Dad and Adam." she warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Mrs. Juice!" he grinned widely. "When we come back, they'll know the _new_ B-man, know whaddimean?"

"Let's hope." Lydia sighed, secretly preparing for the worst. This whole thing had "terrible idea" written all over it, but she felt she had very few options at this point.

"Hey..." Beetle spoke a bit more softly, nudging her playfully with his elbow. "Trust me, Babe. I got this."

"I _am _trusting you." she made sure to say in a warning tone, as she watched him turn away from her and sigh.

Suddenly, Adam and Charles exited the hut and were walking in their direction. "Guess this is it. Three days and nights of butterin' up the relatives. Wish me luck." Beetle muttered, half-heartedly.

"Good Luck, BJ." she replied, though her heart began to feel heavy. Maybe he was just using this as an excuse to do what he'd been notorious for all along. He had been behaving so strangely as of late, that she wasn't so sure of anything anymore.

"Just don't let those broads put any ideas in that head a' yers. I know they'll try." he huffed, awkwardly pulling her in for a hug amidst all the junk he was struggling to hold.

"Nobody's putting anything in my head." Lydia spoke, her voice more somber than she'd planned, as her emotions seeped through it. He was the one who'd caused her to doubt him in the first place, her family had merely been highlighting the obvious. Beetle must have felt the wave of fear she was producing, due to the fact that he stood there awkwardly, fidgeting like he was apt to do when she felt this way.

"You know I love ya, Babe." he stated again, obviously feeling her pain and trying to lessen it. Whether it was due to his own discomfort or simply to make her stop, she wasn't so sure.

"I know, BJ." she mumbled, wringing her hands and feeling the urge to get wasted and simply forget about him for the night. It seemed to hurt a little less that way.

"Alright. Let's get this over with." Adam stepped up, with Charles stumbling behind him.

"That's the spirit! Gotta love that eagerness!" Beetle said, obviously bullshitting to the point Lydia nearly rolled her eyes back into her skull. He then turned to Lydia. "Guess I'll see ya in three days..." he said awkwardly, trying to hide the strange tension between them, yet failing miserably.

"Guess so." Lydia feigned a smile, as Beetle nodded uncomfortably and began leading her relatives to their fate.


	28. All Aboard!

Chapter 28: All Aboard!

Beetle stood on the gigantic dock, placing his overstuffed suitcases down and stretching his arms. "Well, here it is boys! Ain't she beautiful?" he drawled, gazing out amongst a crowd of scantily-clad women and partygoers of all ages, many of which were seemingly wasted as fuck before they'd even thought about boarding the ship.

"I don't think 'beautiful' is the word for it." Adam piped in, looking none too pleased with the whole ordeal.

"C'mon! Don't be such a big ole' pussy about it!" Beetlejuice snorted, studying the humongous vessel, and feeling quite pleased with the fact that it was filled with a metric shit ton of alchohol. He was gonna need every ounce he could get his moldy hands on to tolerate Barbara's man-bitch and Senor Prozac for the next few days.

Adam simply glared at him, which was not surprising in the least. The fucker was always a buzzkill, so it was to be expected. Beetle shrugged, looking over to Chuckie, who seemed to be staring at a group of drunk chicks in bikinis. Now that, he could work with!

"How 'bout you, Chuck? Ya ready to get yer ass in there and live a little?" Beetle raised a brow, grinning deviously.

He whipped his head back, apparently embarrassed by being caught in the act of ogling another woman's semi-bare ass. "Uh, well, I mean it _does_ have its charms." he chuckled nervously, a half smile lacing his lips.

"Atta' boy, Chuckster! See, there's some valuable lessons to be learned here." Beetle spoke, making sure to lean into Adam and make his ass as uncomfortable as inhumanely possible. Served him right for trying to persuade Lydia to leave him.

"And just what would those lessons be?" Adam grumbled, backing up a step.

"Heh. Thought you'd never ask!" Beetlejuice began. "Lesson numero uno: loosen the fuck up! Ya only die once!" he said, obviously just dicking around for the sole purpose of irritating Adam. The immediate look of displeasure coming from his prick face told him his little remarks were, indeed, serving their purpose. "Lesson two: Look but don't touch! Right, Chuckieboy?" he asked, purposely directing that particular command toward Lydia's father, who was taking that whole creepy ogling thing a bit further than Beetle had expected. Not that he blamed the poor bastard. Being married to the likes of Delia would have any man desperate for some semi-normal ass. Unfortunately, if he let Sir Ambien do anything regrettable, Lydia would smite his ass, and he had no desire to face that wrath.

"ALL ABOARD!" a tubby man in a suit began to yell from the top of the ramp, as the gates opened up, allowing them all to flood in as the ship blasted its horn.

Noticing Adam and Chuck's initial hesitation, Beetle scowled, stepping in behind them in an attempt to fight the crowd and shove them ahead. "Well, whaddaya waitin' for?! That booze ain't gonna drink itself!" he nudged them along, prompting another glare from an obviously unhappy Adam.

"Why did I let you talk me into this?" Adam huffed, adjusting his luggage as he finally began pacing toward the entrance of the giant ship.

"You should be glad I did! Someone needs to pull that stick outta' yer ass." Beetle grinned widely, as they passed through the large entrance and boarded. He knew he was supposed to be playing nice with Adam for Lydia's sake, even if the dweeb was resisting every step of the way and making it hard as hell to want to do so. However, he told his wife he'd be a good boy, and he would do just that. _Sort of_.

* * *

"What do you think?" Delia smiled from ear-to-ear, eyes bulging wide, and appearing not unlike a manic, deranged lunatic as she gazed over the painting she'd temporarily placed on the wall.

"Well...It's..." Barbara began, her face showing her apparent bewilderment.

"What is it?" Lydia blurted out, not sure if Delia was purposely turning all of her recent art into dick-like monsters, or if she was simply that delusional and oblivious to that fact.

"I haven't given it a proper title yet. That'll come later, when the inspiration strikes me!" She exclaimed, wiping her red-stained hands on her apron with the zeal of a crazed serial killer.

"Well it's certainly _something_." Barbara said, in an apparent attempt not to actually describe the abomination in front of her.

"You like it, don't you?" Delia spoke, feeding her ever-growing delusions regarding the horrifically phallic shit she'd plastered on the wall.

"Um..." Barbara began, only for Delia to butt in.

"I know you do!" she gleamed, turning back to Lydia.

"It's great!" Lydia said, hiding any emotion that gave away the fact that Delia had created what could only be described as nightmare fuel.

"I'm glad you like it. I made it for you and your husband to enjoy!" Delia exclaimed. "I know he was quite interested in my work, so I figured I'd give you both another one of my originals!"

"Oh. Thanks." Lydia said, realizing that Delia was clinging onto BJ's earlier attempt to be civil, because anyone mentioning her art in any shape or form was like a drink of ice water in a barren desert for her. Now she'd be lucky if every wall in her home didn't end up splattered in Delia's atrocities.

"Well, hopefully your _husband_ can behave himself while he's out on that boat full of hussies." Barbara rolled her eyes.

Lydia frowned, not wanting to dance around this subject again. "He will, Barbara."

"I know you're telling me that, but I don't know why he'd purposely expose himself to such a thing. Married men don't normally go on cruises full of young, single women. Doesn't it seem odd to you, Lydia?" she questioned, causing Lydia's doubts to rise again, despite her reluctance to continue the conversation.

"I thought you said you weren't going to push me away again." Lydia remarked, hoping to shut Barbara up and shove the whole situation far from her thoughts where she wanted it to stay.

"I'm not. I just don't want that creep to hurt you. What he's doing just isn't adding up. If he wants to show us he's willing to be a decent guy, then he's not helping himself at all. It's just all so fishy." Barbara continued, her face twisted in concern.

"Fine. You want to know the truth? It was his idea, but it's not what you think it is." Lydia finally admitted, not wanting to be constantly badgered about BJ's trip the whole time he was away. "He chose the Booze Cruise on purpose. He wants to show you guys that he's not who he used to be. He figured that was the best way to show it. He will behave himself. He always does. I told you, he's changed." Lydia explained, though her heart really didn't feel completely into what she was saying. She thought he'd changed. That was until he'd began his bossy, condescending, jerk-like behavior. It was also before strange women began showing up to tell her he was allegedly out prowling during the night. And it was certainly before she felt the vibrations of something hidden inside himself that he wasn't telling her.

"So you're saying he's purposely going out of his way to show everyone he's not a sleazy, perverted con man anymore?" Barbara inquired, though her voice was laced with skepticism.

"Yes!" Lydia raised her voice, feeling exasperated.

"Okay, fine. I know you're defending him, and maybe you're right, but I still think it's strange. He could just as easily prove the same point by staying away from that kind of thing. I just don't understand what his logic is in all of this. I just hope he isn't fooling us all. I don't want him to abuse your good nature, Lydia." Barbara continued, casting more doubts on the already looming ones swirling inside Lydia's mind.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Lydia snapped, feeling more on edge than ever. Did she really have to be faced with this again?

"I just don't want him using this as an excuse to lie to you, too. There's a hundred other ways he could go about this. Why is he choosing that one?" Barbara interrogated, not letting up.

"Maybe because that's what's expected of him! Maybe because you'd all have a reason to hate him anyway! Maybe it doesn't matter what he does! I don't know..." Lydia wiped her hand over her face, feeling more confused and upset than ever. Barbara had a point, and BJ did have something hidden from her. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was bullshitting her, after all.

At that moment, Barbara seemed to back off from her. Apparently, she realized she'd overstepped her boundaries again. "I won't bring it up anymore, Lydia. I just want you to know that if he is mistreating you, we'll be there for you. We'll take you home."

Is that what it had come to? Barbara was basically telling her she had an escape plan in case BJ really wasn't who he pretended to be all those years. Even worse than her family's low expectations for their future, was the fact that Lydia herself was beginning to believe the end was near. "Hopefully, it won't come to that..." Lydia sighed aloud, not realizing her mistake.

Upon hearing her words, even Delia, who'd been busy adding the final touches to her self-proclaimed artwork, had turned her attention to Lydia. "Is there something you're not telling us, dear?"

Lydia swallowed back her emotions. "I-I think I need a drink." she stammered, quickly walking away.


	29. Loosen Up, Pal!

Chapter 29: Loosen Up, Pal!

Beetle slid his card key through the slot, hearing the door beep, before kicking it open and carelessly tossing his luggage to the side. "Thank fuck we're outta that line..." he muttered, immediately catching sight of a small liquor cabinet in the corner.

"Isn't this a little _small_?" Adam asked, eyeing their miniscule temporary living space.

"Well, yeah, but it ain't like we're gonna stay in this shithole the whole time we're here." Beetle replied, grabbing a sample-sized bottle of liquor from said cabinet and promptly downing it.

"Doesn't this ship have a casino on board?" Charles interjected, causing a devilish grin to spread across Beetle's face.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about! Ya got good taste, Pops!" he exclaimed, tossing Chuck a bottle of liquor. The man fumbled with it a moment, before shrugging and popping the top. "Atta' boy, Chuckie!" he said, before turning to Adam, who was unpacking his suitcase and folding his underwear into a drawer. Fucking buzzkill. "Adam? You up for one, pal?" Beetle asked, attempting to remain as amicable as possible.

"No, thanks. Someone around here needs to keep their head on straight." Adam insisted, causing Beetlejuice's skin to crawl more than it normally did. He may have been the lesser of the two evils known as the Maitlands, but he was still an insufferably uptight pain in the ass. That, of course, wasn't going to fly on his little excursion.

"So yer tellin' me your gonna get on a cruise ship filled with cool shit and beer and yer gonna fold laundry? That's yer plan?!" Beetle griped, ready and determined to fuck that shit all up. No way was Adam getting out of there sober.

"Why do you care, anyway?" Adam grumbled with a frown, as he neatly folded a pair of khaki pants, which were basically an accurate representation of the fucker's personality if one could manifest it into a clothing item. Yep, all Adam needed was a pen sticking out of his plaid shirt pocket and Beetle would have bitchy Gerald two-point-zero on his hands. It was enough to make Beetle have to manually keep his eyes from rolling back in his head.

Okay, that was enough of that shit. Beetle grabbed another couple of drinks from the mini bar, tossing another to Charles.

"Heh. Don't mind if I do!" Charles happily popped the top, downing another. Beetle had the strange inkling that Chuckieboy was just glad to get away from that step-monster of Lydia's.

"C'mon Adam. Don't be a pussy! Have a drink with the fellas!" Beetle coerced, popping the top off the other drink and downing it.

"I'm not a...a pussy! I just don't want to contribute to your bad behavior." he scowled, still not budging. This would take a little more prodding, Beetle decided.

Beetlejuice's lips curled into a menacing snigger. "I get it, pal. Yer afraid yer ole' woman will rip your balls off."

Adam rolled his eyes, plopping down on the bed. "Gimme a break. It's not _that_."

"I know a pussy whipped little geek when I see one. Lemme' guess. You and _Barbara _have a mutual agreement that you won't drink on this little cruise of ours. She probably said it was best for you _both_, didn't she?" Beetle narrowed his eyes, tossing his empty bottle to the side and grabbing out a few more. He sat there, watching Adam squirm uncomfortably under his glare, tossing that enticing liquor bottle over to him.

Adam nearly dropped it in surprise. "NO! It's not like that!" he proclaimed.

"Then what is it? Ya don't drink? Kinda late to say it's bad fer yer health, don't ya think?" Beetle continued to badger him, knowing good and well Barbara had that man by the balls.

"Well, no. I like a cold drink the same as the next guy." Adam shrugged, as Beetlejuice sensed him slowly giving in.

"AH HA! So it IS Babs, ain't it?" Beetle jumped up, pacing about Adam like he was being interrogated for murder. "She really don't trust yer ass, huh? Thinks yer gonna get drunk and bang some hotter, younger broad, huh?"

"That's not it!" Adam exclaimed, seeming to grow angry. Perfect chance to strike!

"Then _prove_ it." Beetle sneered, throwing Charles another one. "If she ain't tellin' yer ass what to do, then there ain't no problem. Yer a grown-ass man, pal. Drink up."

Adam huffed defeatedly, popping the top off his liquor bottle. "Does Lydia let you act this way?"

"Oh she does." Beetle drawled, thinking of his wife and secretly wishing she was there with him. She was a hell of a lot better company. "That's why she's with me, Buddy. Couldn't resist the ole B-man's charms."

"I find that hard to believe." Adam remarked, before reluctantly downing his shot.

"Here." Beetle pelted Adam with more tiny liquor bottles. "Yer gonna need more than that to make this tolerable."

* * *

Lydia sat on the edge of her mysteriously broken bed, downing a bottle of beer from one of Beetle's many crates and sulking to the fullest extent. Why was everything inside of her crashing down? It wasn't like Beetle hadn't done some awful things before. Of course, those awful things always seemed to have a motive. When his scheming ways nearly tore them apart before, it was because he was desperate and usually had no other choice.

Now, however, there was no motive she could find as to why he was being such a lying asshole. Maybe all that desperation made him seem like a better guy than he actually was. To see him do terrible things out of necessity seemed to take away the sting of said terrible things. Maybe everyone had been right all along. Maybe she had deluded herself into thinking a dead guy that made a living being a maniacal con man could truly love her like he said he did. Maybe he did love her until she cramped his style. Obviously, he was hanging out in bars again during the nights behind her back. He was also blatantly lying to her face. She could _feel_ it. Maybe it had been more of an act than she realized. Maybe he could never truly love her the way she wanted him to. Maybe he could never really love her at all.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Lydia? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Barbara's voice spoke softly from behind it.

"Yes you did." Lydia replied in defeat, before emptying her bottle and tossing it to the side. She stood and grabbed another from Beetle's crate. "I understand why. You're worried."

"Can I come in?" Barbara asked with little hesitation.

"Sure." Lydia replied, as Barbara slowly stepped in, quietly shutting the door behind her. She seated herself beside Lydia, wearing that motherly expression of concern on her features. This was it. Lydia needed to tell somebody before she completely lost it. "If I told you something, would you keep it to yourself, no matter what it is? Don't tell anybody. Not even Adam." Lydia warned, due to the severity of what she was willing to reveal.

"Of course you can, Sweetie. You can trust me." Barbara replied, running her hand through Lydia's hair, much like her real mother used to. As a matter of fact, Barbara was the closest thing she'd had to her real mother since Lydia had lost her so many years ago.

"You have to SWEAR you won't tell!" Lydia huffed, her anxiety increasing rapidly. She had to get this mess off her chest, however. She was far too close to her breaking point to hold it in any longer.

"I swear!" Barbara insisted, with a deeply worried expression etching it's way onto her features.

"Okay then..." Lydia sighed deeply, before chugging a large portion of her beer. She wiped her lips clean, and began again. "I need to tell you the truth, Barbara..."


	30. Drinks and Doubts

Chapter 30: Drinks and Doubts

Beetle threw Adam the last tiny bottle of alcohol he could scavenge. "Here, bud. I'm gonna ring room service." he stood, scratching his beer gut through his currently unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt.

"Tell them to bring extra this time." Charles grinned, clearly feeling what Beetlejuice had been tossing to him the last couple of hours.

"I like yer thinkin'." Beetle grinned widely, pressing the call button on the wall.

"This is room service. What can we get for you, room three-oh-five?" the woman's voice chimed in enthusiastically.

"Er...You know that mini bar in here?" Beetle began. "Well, that shit is COMPLETELY wiped out."

"So you'd like enough to refill then?" the woman asked.

"Bring extra!" Charles interjected, causing Beetle to snigger. Chuckie seemed to be an alright guy once he'd had copious amounts of alcohol sloshed down his gullet.

"You heard the man. We're in desperate need over here!" Beetle said with a bullshit fake Italian accent just for the hell of it.

"Okay, we'll send room service right over to take care of you."

"Thanks, Toots." Beetle grinned, turning to Adam and Chuck. "Alright, boys! We're restockin' this bitch!"

Almost immediately, someone began knocking on the door. "Room service."

"I'll get it!" Adam stumbled up from where he was sitting on the bed, nearly tripping. Beetle couldn't help but find it amusing that the geek was such a lightweight, much like he'd figured him to be. "Damn, that was quick..." Adam huffed, opening the door.

Unfortunately, a very scantily-clad young woman came bouncing in with a cart full of booze. Beetle sighed through his nose, knowing that any wrong move would cause Adam's ass to freak out and acuse him of being a perv.

"Here you go, honey." She spoke to Adam, causing him to clear his throat nervously.

"Uh, thanks." he replied, averting his eyes from her.

"You fellas want me to clean this up?" she asked sweetly, bending over to pick up an empty bottle out of the floor, and causing Chuckie's eyes to hone in on her ass like a missile to a target. Yeah, that wasn't good.

"Nah, we got it." Beetle waved her away, purposely avoiding staring at any of her bouncy parts.

"Well, I mean it IS a mess in here..." Charles spoke, grinning widely. Who knew the guy was such a closeted horndog?

Beetle smirked, exchanging a glance with Adam, who looked like he'd jump out of his skin at any moment. He then shrugged, overcome by the hilariousness of making Adam squirm. "He said it's dirty. Let her clean." Beetle stepped over to her cart, taking a couple of shots off of it and seating himself at the small table next to the window, which was as far away from that chick as he could physically get.

"I think I'll join you..." Adam yipped, grabbing a drink for himself and sitting directly across from Beetle.

Beetle sniggered, sloshing the liquor around in his tiny bottle. "Babs would cut yer balls off, wouldn't she?"

"Probably." Adam smirked, seeming to loosen up a bit for once. "I'm not going to test it and find out."

"You think ole' Chuckie's gonna get neutered?" Beetlejuice raised a brow, gesturing to Charles, who was chatting up the help like she was a bitch in heat.

"I don't think he's stupid enough to piss Delia off. Have you seen that woman when she gets angry?" Adam asked, before throwing back his drink.

"Ya mean she gets scarier? No wonder Chuckie boy's poppin' Ativans like they're skittles." Beetle snorted.

"So how about you?" Adam slyly asked Beetle, catching him off guard. "Would Lydia strangle you?"

Beetle narrowed his eyes. "Well played, pal. I ain't that damned stupid. Besides, look at her. She ain't got nothin' on Lydia. Wouldn't touch it fer the world." He knew damned well that Adam was trying to weasel some damnable information out of him, and much to his chagrin, he'd failed miserably.

Adam studied him a moment. "That's unusual to hear coming from you."

"Eh, what can I say. I'm full ah' surprises." Beetle said, watching Charles nearly follow the cleaning lady out the door. "You done over there, Loverboy?" he snorted, causing Chuck to grow wide-eyed.

"Oh, no. I wasn't. I mean, uh, it wasn't like _that._" Charles huffed, nervously grabbing a drink for himself. "Delia would murder me in my sleep."

Adam grinned. "How? You're already dead."

"Oh, she'd find a way." Chuckie muttered, pulling the cork from his bottle and gazing off in the distance like he was having what could only be compared to war flashbacks. When he stopped tripping balls, he began to speak again, blatantly changing the subject as he did so. "So, how about that Casino? Anyone want to roll the dice with me?"

Beetle grinned widely, raising a brow. "Count me in, Pops!" He then turned to Adam, who seemed like an apprehensive little prick about the whole thing, as per usual.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea..." Adam mumbled, fiddling with his bottle. "We're already drunk."

"All the better!" Beetle contested. "Now get yer ass up and come with us so we don't have to drag ya."

Adam shook his head, sighing. "Fine. But don't blame me if you get in trouble."

"Trouble?" Beetle cackled, turning to Charles. "You afraid of gettin' in trouble, Chuckie Boy?"

"Not in the slightest." Chuck admitted, giggling like a school girl.

"See? Don't be a pussy, Adam. Don't worry, we won't tell _Barbara_ you gambled with us." Beetle antagonized him just for the hell of it. It was pretty funny pissing him off so much in such a short period of time.

* * *

Beetle held his beer, watching Adam lose yet another game of Blackjack and soaking up pure enjoyment from the man's frustration.

"Twenty-three. Sorry." the dealer shrugged, after flipping the card over and breaking Adam's chances of winning.

"I gotta hand it to ya, Adam. You suck at levels I've never thought were attainable!" Beetlejuice cackled, slapping him on the back.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Adam stood abruptly, pushing his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. "I think I'm going to try something else, anyway."

Beetle discreetly glanced over his shoulder at Charles, who he'd been secretly watching throughout the night. He had to make sure Romeo Deetz didn't go a little too far with any of the waitresses he'd been chatting up. Chuck was currently sitting at a slot machine, though he wasn't playing it. He was, of course, hitting up another broad in skimpy clothes.

"Heya...How's about we go over there with the Chuckster?" Beetle suggested, as Adam caught sight of the man's blatant flirting.

"Yeah, we'd better keep an eye on him." Adam nodded, as the two casually strolled over and seated themselves on either side of him.

"Havin' fun there, Chuckie Boy?" Beetle interrupted him, causing him to stop chatting up the busty waitress.

"Oh, uh, of course. I was just ordering a drink." He replied sheepishly, quickly waving the young woman away and downplaying his obvious ass-chasing behavior.

"Remember those rules, Chuckie. Lydia will have my ass if you start diddlin' bitches on this cruise." Beetlejuice warned, pointing his beer in Chuck's face.

"I wasn't touching." Charles grinned slyly, fidgeting about in his seat.

"Make sure it stays that way." Beetle smirked in amusement, pulling the lever on his slot machine and watching the symbols roll.

* * *

"So, yeah...That's the truth. I was kind of miserable before you guys came here." Lydia admitted. "I just don't know what got into him."

She looked up to Barbara, nervously fiddling with her empty beer. Her god mother held a pained expression on her features. "Lydia...I'm sorry..."

"You mean you're not gonna tell me to run away from him?" Lydia asked in surprise, feeling quite wary after revealing the true heaviness of her heart.

"No. I told you I'm not going to push you away." she reiterated her point from before.

"Thanks." Lydia smiled half-heartedly, hoping Barbara didn't hate her husband even more now. Either way, the mess was already there. She was just speaking the truth of it into existence.

Barbara smiled sadly. "You're welcome, Lydia. Just let me know if you need to talk. You don't need to deal with that alone."

Something about Barbara's body language and tone in general seemed different and a bit off in that moment. "So...what do you think?" Lydia asked her hesitantly, bracing herself for the less-than-stellar things she was probably going to spew about her husband.

Barbara sighed, shaking her head. "Personally, I think you can do much better." she stated defiantly, as Lydia had expected her to. However, Lydia found herself in mild shock when Barbara continued on. "But if you're asking me if I think he loves you...I don't know." Barbara admitted, her face scrunching up in bewilderment. "It's confusing."

Lydia frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I guess, in some weird way, he seems to." Barbara shrugged. "But it's not enough." She quickly corrected herself in what seemed to be an attempt to not take his side or make him seem good in any feasible way. "He may care, Lydia, but that doesn't make him exempt from consequences. He's done some really stupid things."

"I know. I keep questioning him myself." Lydia stood up, grabbing herself a beer and offering one to Barbara, who hesitantly took it for once. "There was a time when I thought I knew him. Now I'm not so sure anymore."

"There will come a time when you won't have to question him so much, Lydia. You'll get your answer, sooner or later. Just don't waste your eternity feeling miserable about him. Don't let him bring you down anymore." Barbara advised, and though she'd stayed surprisingly neutral for Lydia's sake, Lydia found herself feeling Barbara's disgust floating in the air around them, more than likely due to her currently heightened senses. Strangely enough, she could also feel Barbara's confusion over the matter. Barbara really was beginning to believe that Beetle loved Lydia, and somehow it gave Lydia an inkling of hope that she could feel that. It wasn't much, but it was something to cling to in the darkness of her heartache.


	31. Alcohol Infused Interrogations

Chapter 31: Alcohol Infused Interrogations

"C'mon, lift!" Beetle grunted, scolding Adam for nearly dropping a clearly unconscious Charles Deetz on the hallway floor. "We're almost there."

"I know! It's just hard to carry a full grown man when you're seeing double of everything!" Adam panted, as the two dragged Lydia's father to their room.

Beetle dug into his pocket, knocking various insects to the side as he grabbed the card key, fumbling about with it and nearly dropping it. "Son of a bitch!" he growled, nearly losing his balance and dumping all three of their asses in the floor. He held his breath and squinted with one eye shut, aiming for the slot and missing a couple of times.

"For the love of god, hurry up!" Adam whined.

"I'm tryin', damnit!" Beetle attempted a third time, finally hitting his target, as the door beeped open.

"Finally!" Adam sighed, as they pulled Charles inside and flopped his limp body onto the bottom bunk bed.

"That fucker's heavy as lead." Beetle grunted, limping over to the small table and plopping down in the seat. "Remind his ass not to pass out on us again."

"Noted." Adam nodded, falling onto a chair in the corner. "Who would have thought I'd go on a trip with _you _and have to watch Charles like a two year old?"

Beetle opened the circular window, lighting one of his cuban cigars with a match and blowing smoke outside. "That s'posed to be some sort ah compliment?"

Adam snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. It's just a testament to how little self control Lydia's father has."

"Heh, that fucker's got some suppressed shit goin' on, right there. I doubt the red headed wonder puts out much." he sniggered to himself, blowing smoke out the window in the shape of a snake.

"Why do you have to say that? I lived with those two for years. That's like hearing about my siblings going at it." Adam scowled, standing and stumbling over to the mini bar to grab himself another drink.

"Did ya ever hear 'em knockin' the headboard into the wall, or did you just stick yer fingers in yer ears and go to yer happy place?" Beetle grinned deviously, hoping to get a rise out of Adam, due to the fact that it was funny as hell to rile him up. Truthfully, he was a lot less of a prick after he'd downed a few. In short, he was actually proving to be semi-tolerable, and that was a huge fucking relief.

"No, why?" Adam huffed, opening another drink.

"Liar. Lydia told me they howled like two horny banshees." Beetle cackled, fiddling with his cigar.

"Fine. Yeah, she's right. I try not to think about it." Adam smirked, propping his foot up on the edge of the bed from where he sat. "I guess she would know. Her room was right next to their bedroom. Poor girl. At least we had the attic."

"Hm." Beetle grunted, thinking back to that room of hers. "I remember that room. She had a frame full of beetles hanging in there. What was the deal with that?"

Adam paused. "She did, didn't she? I'd always wondered why she brought that thing home one day. She'd moved away already. She bought it at a yardsale during one of her visits. She hung it on the wall before she left. I found it kind of strange. Barbara asked her why she'd buy a bunch of nasty dead bugs."

Beetle raised a brow. "What'd she say?"

"She said it was comforting to have it around." Adam said, giving Beetle a telling look. He knocked back another shot, before speaking again. "We figured it out long ago. Lydia always had a soft spot for you. I guess that's why I'm here in the first place, huh?" Adam spoke, almost regretfully, causing Beetle to frown.

"Hey now, it can't be _that _awful..." Beetle muttered miserably.

"It WAS that awful. You tried to marry her when she was in high school!" Adam glared, causing Beetle to feel the sting of years of past idiocy and general douchiness coming back to bite him square in the ass.

"Yeah...That wasn't my finest hour. If it means anything, it wasn't like _that_. I wasn't gonna DO anything. I ain't that fucked up. I just wanted out, an' I saw an opportunity." he explained, feeling like he somehow owed Adam that much of an explanation. "I was plannin' to be out the door as soon as that wedding was finito."

"Well, I didn't know that at the time. You did try to _literally_ make out with my wife while I was standing right beside her. I didn't know what you were capable of." Adam crossed his arms, staring Beetle down like he was on the inside of a jail cell.

"Er...Yeah." He scratched his head awkwardly, knowing all too well that Adam wasn't about to let that go anytime soon. "Well, believe me, I ain't like that no more. I was an asshole."

"Was?" Adam raised a brow skeptically.

"Look, if it means anything I regret doin' it. Believe me, if I could take back all the retarded shit I've done over the years, you bet yer ass I would. It's a thousand wonders Lydia can even stand my ass." he admitted, flicking his cigar out the window and going for another drink himself.

"Now that's something we BOTH can agree to." Adam nodded in complete smugness. "I can't believe she came to _you_ of all people when she was in the Neitherworld. Was she lying to us about that?"

"Believe it, pal. I thought she was up to somethin' myself. Boy, was I pissed when I found out that was her." Beetle shook his head, smirking to himself.

"YOU were pissed? SHE should have been pissed! You were the idiot that started that mess in the first place!" Adam scowled, his resentment clearly evident.

"Hey, I told ya I was an asshole! Turns out, she came to apologize to ME fer backin' out of our deal." he explained, staring out the window and remembering how shocked he'd been during that moment.

"Yeah, that's Lydia for you. She's always been a bit _different _when it comes to her view of things. Here we were all glad to get rid of you, while Lydia was feeling guilty that Barbara fed you to a Sandworm." Adam chuckled, somehow lightening up when he thought of Beetle's demise, which was not a pleasant memory for the poltergeist himself, and certainly not something he enjoyed seeing Adam so pleased over. "Sometimes she'd ask us if we thought you were still around somewhere. Barbara worried about that. Seems like she had good reason to, given what's transpired."

"I get it, buddy. You guys hate the ground I walk on." he growled, knocking back another drink to comfort his prickly, NOT happy insides. "I don't know what else I can do about all that shit now. I can't take it back or I would, for Lydia's sake if nothin' else." Now he was back to feeling like shit. He knew he was on paper-thin ice when it came to Lydia. He sure as hell didn't want to fall through on this, even if it meant he had to beg like a little bitch to everyone he'd wronged.

Adam studied him with a quizzical look on his face for the longest time. "Is this some kind of stunt you're pulling?"

"Hell no! Why?" Beetle began to rub the dull ache forming in his brain from having to explain himself for the thousandth fucking time.

"Because I've never seen you like this before." Adam remarked, shooting him a leery glance.

"No shit." Beetle scoffed, flinging his empty bottle out the window. "Ya kinda caught me at a bad time before."

"You juiced us to chairs and threw Lydia out of the house!" Adam began to raise his voice, apparently passing from the amicable drunk phase into the angry, ranting inebriation phase.

"Like I said, pal. Bad timing." Beetle reiterated, quickly growing tired of talking in circles.

"No, it wasn't a bad time. A bad time happens when you're running late for work or forget your morning coffee. A bad time doesn't involve running from the law and holding a whole family hostage to spite your wife!" Adam fumed, straightening himself in his anger.

"Fuck. How many times do I gotta tell ya? I was gonna be exorcized! Remember what that shit's like? You know, that little second near death experience I saved you and Babs from? I'm pretty sure yer familiar with that shit by now. Well, guess what? No one was gonna save my ass..." he growled, his frustration getting the better of him.

"Lydia did." Adam answered defiantly, like the big fucking know-it-all he was prone to be.

"You think I don't know that?! I'm tryin' to be better cause of her, remember? I told ya like a hundred fuckin' times! Why do you think I'm not hornballin' around right now? Why do you think I wasn't playin' that game of 'Stare at the Big Titties' with ole' Chuckie all night? I'm not that guy anymore, pal. I don't need that shit." he tried, once again, to explain his point to the drunken dickhead that was currently grilling him like a well done steak at the moment.

"Then what _do_ you need?" Adam inquired, in a bizarre, drunken attempt to somehow put him on the spot.

"Lydia's enough. End of story." Beetle groaned, standing and stretching his aching body. "Look, I'm callin' it a night before we do this 'till the sun comes up. Get some rest, pal."

Adam grew silent for once, sighing and rubbing his head. "Yeah, your right. I drank too much a long time ago. I need to sleep this off." he reluctantly admitted, stretching across the sofa with his feet dangling off the arm of it.

"Good luck with that." Beetle muttered irritably under his breath, climbing up to the top bunk and flopping onto it. He laid there for quite a while, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he was getting anywhere at all. Given the conversation he'd just had, he wondered if he'd ever have the luxury of NOT explaining himself again. _Probably not. _


	32. Familial Spats

Chapter 32: Familial Spats

Beetle grunted, his eyes opening to the sound of Charles spewing forth like the exorcist in the bathroom. He snorted, amused by the ungodly sounds the man was currently producing. "Need me to call a priest, Chuckie Boy?" he remarked, stiffly climbling down from atop the bunk bed.

"I-I'm fine!" Chuck stammered, in between his bouts of what could only be described as intense, projectile vomiting.

"Yeah, and I got a twelve inch dick and a six pack." Beetle sniggered, choosing his tried and true method of shaking off an unholy hangover, which was to drink enough to forget about it. He rummaged through the mini bar, relieved to find about a dozen untouched bottles. A devilish grin spread across his face, as he greedily grabbed as many of them as he could muster.

"Don't tell me you're going to start drinking again..." Adam raised up like a nerdy zombie coming back from the dead to bitch at him.

"Well, yeah. How do ya expect me to get rid ah' this bustin' headache? It's either drink or throw yer ass off the ship. Take your pick." Beetle remarked, popping the cork off of one of the small bottles and bringing it to his lips.

Adam studied him a moment, making him feel like a lab rat in a cage. "Does that really work?" he finally mumbled, rubbing his head and wincing.

"You'll never know if ya don't try, pal." Beetle coaxed him, hoping a little booze would lighten his ass up, though his hopes were slim, considering it hadn't stopped him from playing drill seargant the night before.

Adam shrugged, sighing while he grabbed a few of the bottles off of the small table. "Oh, what the hell? I don't have a way off this boat, so I might as well make this as painless as possible."

Beetle shrugged, lighting up a cigar from his box. "I dunno. You were feelin' pretty good up until ya decided to complete that full background check on me last night. You need to take muh fingerprints while yer at it? Frisk me? Do a full-fuckin'-cavity search?"

"I don't want to think about that again." Adam spat irritably, looking away from Beetle. "I just want to get this over with."

Beetle sighed, blowing smoke out his nose. He scowled, feeling shitty and helpless all of a sudden. "You really hate my ass, don'tcha?" he questioned Adam, not able to keep up the facade any longer. It seemed like no matter what he was doing, he was seen as a permanent fuck up, whether he'd actually fucked up or not.

"It doesn't matter, anyway." Adam replied, gazing out the window. "Lydia chose you. For what reason, I'll never fully understand..."

"Guess that's a yes." Beetle scratched his head, feeling defeated as hell. Could he really even win at this point? He saw the look on Lydia's face when they'd last parted ways. Even _she_ didn't trust him anymore. He had about an ice cube's chance in hell of getting through this with his wife on the other side. Even more disturbing, was the fact that his ring was tingling again. "Okay, I'm cuttin' the bullshit. Is there anything I CAN do to fix this?"

"I can't answer that." Adam replied, obviously stalling and being vague on purpose.

"Yeah ya can." Beetle narrowed his eyes. "You don't WANT me to fix this shit, do ya?" he spoke, his voice growing low and harsh. "You'd rather watch me fuck up so Lydia will have just one more reason to run screamin'."

"She already has enough reasons to." Adam glared.

Suddenly, Charles stumbled into the room, crashing on the bottom bunk, holding his head in pain.

"What about you?" Beetle asked Lydia's father, staving off his usual dose of smart-ass for the sake of clarity. "You want me gone too?"

"Uh...I don't...er..." he stuttered, obviously not wanting to admit to what was really on his mind.

"Forget it." Beetlejuice stood, blowing smoke in Adam's face and causing him to cough. "He's scared of me, you and that Succubus hate my guts, and Delia could give two fucks as long as I tell her that garbage she makes ain't an abominable dumpster fire. I can try to please you fuckers 'till hell freezes over and Satan comes up here wearin' a parka and a pair of galoshes. I know how this shit works. You ain't gonna meet me half way." he marched toward the door, grabbing the handle.

"And just _where_ do you think you're going?" Adam stood up defiantly, as if he'd actually have the nads to boss Beetle around.

"Exactly where you cocksuckers want me, which is away from your asses!" he growled, swinging the door open. "Come get me when this bastard docks. At least I can tell the wife I tried to do MY part, anyway!"

Beetle slammed the door back behind him, only for Adam to reopen it and poke his head out. "Hey! What are you going to do?"

"Go fuck yerself..." Beetle hissed, walking away from the shitstorm that never seemed to end.

* * *

Beetle propped up against the rails, guzzling a large bottle of whiskey he'd swindled from one of the ship's many bars. Not that it mattered, everything on the cruise was free anyway. He gazed out over the sea, sparkling with the setting of the sun. He'd been out there all day, thankfully steering clear of the likes of certain insufferable family members.

He looked over to his side, watching the crowd party and laugh, noting the stark contrast to his own angsty inner-turnoil. He couldn't get shit straight to save his undead life. His thoughts trailed to Lydia. The way she'd looked at him lately was more akin to painful toleration than actual fondness. Maybe his ways had finally caught up to him for good this time.

More than likely those assholes would gang up on him and tell Lydia it was all his fault that they weren't getting along. Adam was practically counting the seconds until he could jump off that boat and run to tell Lydia what a giant piss bag he was.

Feeling completely out of options, Beetle reached down into his back pocket, pulling the glittering letter out of it and watching the sunlight reflect off of it. "Might as well get rid of this..." he muttered miserably to himself, turning it loose and watching it drift away, falling into the sea, despite the consequences. He was probably fucked anyway. Besides, he needed to get rid of that damned thing before someone caught him with it.

"What the fuck?" His brow furrowed with confusion, as his wedding ring began to slide off his finger. He fiddled with it, noting that once he pulled it halfway up his finger, it sparked. "Shit!" he hissed, gripping his throbbing hand. Why the hell was his ring this loose? What the fuck was going on?


	33. Distance

Chapter 33: Distance

It was nightfall. Beetle sat on a beach chair on the top deck, feeling equal parts trashed and dejected. "It was nice knowin' ya, Babe..." he drawled, wallowing in a metric shit ton of self-pity and content to just stay there and fester in it.

"Who are you talking to?"

Beetle looked over, meeting the equally glazed eyes of some young punk with dreadlocks and a giant bong smoking up in his hand.

"My soon to be ex-wife, probably." Beetle mumbled in defeat.

"You're getting divorced? You've come to the right place then, brother." the guy grinned slyly. "You've got plenty of _options _walking around here to help take your mind off things." he said, cupping his hands on what seemed to be an imaginary set of air tits.

"Pffft, hardly." Beetle slurred. "Once you've had a taste of prime cut steak, a moldy piece ah salami hardly does it for ya..."

"Uh, I don't know what you mean." he replied, appearing perplexed as he started to take a large hit off his pipe.

"I mean she was the _one_. One hundred percent. Grade A. Perfecto." Beetlejuice yammered on, knowing damn well he sounded completely and utterly pathetic, while simultaneously throwing all fucks away concerning that fact.

"Oh, so she was hot, huh?" the stranger grinned, nearly choking, as smoke came balling from his lips.

"Hell yeah! She's young. Nice. Has a smokin' hot body..." he grinned lecherously.

"Dude, you can find that here." the stoner said, gesturing to a group of young chicks walking by them in string bikinis. "There's bountiful young, hot ass to be tapped, my man."

Beetle scowled. "Gimme a fuckin' break. Yeah, they're young and hot er whatever...But let's face it, they don't even come CLOSE to her."

The young man's face twisted in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"She's like a top one percent kinda gal, and the best thing is, she don't even know it, so I never had to worry about her gettin' the big head over it." he sniggered, perking up as he began to tell what would probably be the best of all his war stories. The rest weren't really what he'd call brag-worthy, considering all the other women he'd banged were either nasty skanks, hookers, or missing various appendages and such. He'd probably have to embellish a bit on those.

"Ohhh..." the guy smiled, nodding his head. "I get you, man. I've seen those before. A true rarity."

"Exactly!" Beetle slurred smugly, happy to boast and hold onto what little of his shattered ego was left. "We're talkin' long, dark hair, big brown eyes. One of those petite types, ya know? Slim in all the right places. Has a great ass...THE best tits I've ever seen..."

"Just _who_ are you talking about?" Another voice cut through his haze of alcohol-induced gloating.

His glazed eyes trailed up to see Adam standing over him, arms folded and eyes glaring into his very intoxicated soul. "Hehe. I don't think you wanna know, pal." Beetle sneered.

It was then that the young punk spoke up, grinning like he'd eaten a whole shit sandwich and was ready for another one. "He was talking about his ex-wife."

"Ex-wife?" Adam scowled.

"Probably, no thanks to YOUR ass." Beetle gave Adam his best death stare. "Lydia. I was talkin' about Lydia's nice tits. You gotta' problem with that, too?"

Adam's face wrinkled up in disgust, as he looked away. "You're right. I didn't want to know that."

"What the fuck do you want, anyway?" Beetle grouched. Couldn't the dicklicker leave him to mope and self-loathe in peace?

"I didn't want ANYTHING from you. I was just looking for Charles. He got away from me." Adam explained, seeming upset, which was only slightly entertaining, considering Beetle felt like a big dish of hot, fresh hell with a side of self-inflicted mental tormentation.

"Chuckie may be a spineless pill enthusiast, but he ain't stupid. Fucker's got the right idea." Beetlejuice taunted. "Not my problemo anymore..."

Adam rolled his eyes, adhering to his smug, superiority complex that led to many rapid-fire fantasies of strangulation dancing through Beetle's mind. Not that he'd actually go through with it due to the tiny shred of hope he had left concerning Lydia, but hey, a boy could dream, right?

Adam pretended to ignore him, turning to the Rastafarian wonder for another round of bitchy interrogation. "Has he been trying to pick up women here?"

"I dunno. I only just met him." the stoner shrugged, as Beetle struggled to hold his tongue. "He didn't while I was here. Said the chicks here weren't hot enough. Who knew an old, gross dude would be so picky?"

"Thanks, pal. Reeeaaal helpful there." Beetle placed an exaggerated, fake smile on his lips, before turning back to Adam. "Yer not gonna get any dirt on me, buddy. You'll have to lie to her if you want her to get rid of my ass. Otherwise, I ain't goin' nowhere, so scram!"

"Whatever. I don't have time for this. I need to find him and make sure he doesn't do anything he'll regret." Adam huffed, running a hand over his hair and fidgeting about in a panic, before turning back to Beetle. "This was a terrible idea."

Beetle cackled, just to provoke him further. "For who? Don't it seem just a little ironic that it ain't me yer tryin' to babysit?" he raised a brow, grinning with much satisfaction. If anything, he was looking more like a saint by the minute. HE hadn't gone back on his word, HE tried to get along, HE was not the one acting like a psychotic private investigator. Somehow, against all odds, this gave Beetlejuice a fraction of hope. Maybe Lydia would take his side, knowing how terribly Adam fucked it all up. "If anyone here has some explainin' to do, it's YOU, amigo! HAHAHA!"

Adam paused, his mouth gaped open like he was ready to go down on a horse. "I-I can't deal with this right now." he fumed, before stomping off to find Chuck, who was more than likely hiding from his uptight ass anyway.

Beetle watched with much contentment as Adam stormed away, before he directed his attention back to Sir Ganja. "Really? Old and gross?"

"Sorry man. He put me on the spot." the young man shrugged.

"Sorry? I'll show you sorry. Gimme' that!" Beetle grumbled, yanking the bong out of his hand. "You owe me one, smart ass." he grinned wickedly, before taking a long hit.


	34. Where Are You?

Chapter 34: Where are you?

Lydia lifted her hands away from the piano keys, smiling warmly to herself in satisfaction.

"Lydia, that was beautiful..." Barbara said, leaning forward in her chair, her eyes wide and full of that maternal love that Lydia had always depended on. "I haven't heard you play in so long..."

Delia chuckled, stirring her fruity drink with a little pink umbrella. "Well, it's always been clear that I'm not the only talented woman in the family. "

After her remark, she noted a bit of a smirk and a glance coming from Barbara. Lydia herself stifled back a chuckle of her own, in an attempt not to piss Delia off concerning her delusions of grandeur.

"I bet your mother would be proud of you." Barbara smiled warmly, as Lydia swiveled in her seat, turning to the ocean, massive and glittering in the night sky.

"Charles did say Lydia took after Rose's musical abilities." Delia said to Barbara, before turning back to Lydia herself. "It's a shame you didn't take your talents further, dear. We would have helped you, you know."

Lydia shrugged, knowing it was in Delia's nature to try and push her into the spotlight. "It was more of a hobby for me." She answered, before juicing the piano away and seating herself alongside the other two on the balcony. She grabbed a cold beer from another one of Beetle's copious crates, various memories dancing through her mind. She remembered the early years of her life in New York. Her mother, being an avid piano player and instructor, made it a point to teach Lydia to play. Truthfully, she had loved playing, with childish dreams of playing in a large, elaborate orchestra someday. However, after her mother passed on, it left her in that deeply melancholy state, which, of course, inspired her infamous gothic, hate-the-world phase. Needless to say, Lydia never quite felt the same way about it all after that. On rare occasions, however, she would still play, mostly as an outlet to relieve all that pent up heartache inside. Just like her lonely nights wandering back in the Neitherworld, she now resorted to playing just for the sheer comfort of it all.

It was after a moment of quiet reminiscing that something had just dawned on Lydia. "I'll get to see her soon. Hopefully." she mentioned, taking a drink and gazing longingly over the dark, crashing waves. Lydia could almost see her mother's face again, listening to her play as she gazed out of the window back in their condo. She remembered how her mother would cross her arms, silently listening to her progress as she tapped her index finger on her elbow, keeping in time with each song Lydia would practice.

"So you got a letter for her, too?" Barbara asked, seeming somehow eager concerning Rose.

"Yeah." Lydia smiled in return, her own finger unconsciously tapping on the arm of her chair.

Delia shifted uncomfortably in her seat upon hearing this, downing the rest of her drink. "It's...Just so strange that it's taken so long for you to see us all again."

"Maybe there was some sort of mistake in the system. That's the only thing I can think of." Barbara mused, sipping on a glass of iced tea. "At least, I _hope_ that was it..." she trailed off, glancing warily to Lydia from the corner of her eye.

Feeling a rush of unsettling dread inside herself, Lydia decided not to think about Barbara's little remark. "I'm just glad you guys are here with me. I missed you."

"We missed you too, dear. You should have seen the look on your father's face when we finally got that return letter. He nearly choked on his dinner when I showed him!" Delia beamed, though she was a notoriously terrible cook, so that could have been another reason for the impromptu bouts of choking.

"Adam and I were so excited to see you. I could barely believe it when I found that letter at our front door." Barbara smiled, pinching Lydia's cheek and making her feel like a young girl again.

Lydia wrinkled her nose up, grinning and feeling a little sheepish from the affection. "I guess you guys thought I was all by myself, huh?"

"Well, you did tell us you'd taken care of that whole B-word situation." Barbara said, seeming to scold her in some way for omitting the truth before.

"We certainly didn't think you'd be _married_ to...to..." Delia, stammered, not sure how to avoid saying his name.

"BJ?" Lydia raised a brow, smirking. "The name I've called him like a hundred times since you've been here?"

"Well, I didn't know what he wanted to be called. I didn't want him to do anything potentially..._dangerous_ again if we upset him." Delia frowned, apparently not amused with Lydia's amusement. Go figure.

Lydia wanted to say that Beetlejuice wouldn't do anything to harm them. He did seem to be rehabilitated in that sense, though she couldn't quite bring herself to try and reassure them both. Barbara wouldn't buy it, that was for damn sure, considering the long, depressing exchange they'd previously had. "Um...You guys want some food?" Lydia asked abruptly, hoping to change the subject and push that unwanted shit to the dark recesses of her mind.

* * *

Beetle leaned back in his chair, blowing smoke out in the shape of little, crooked hearts as he gazed at the moon hanging high in the night sky. Not only was he completely trashed at this point, but he was also feeling that insatiable, weed-induced hunger that was commonly referred to as "the munchies".

He turned back to the Bob Marley ripoff he was currently getting stoned with, passing the bong back to him. "Heya, buddy...How's about you blast us somethin' to eat? I'm starvin'..." Beetlejuice said, his eyes half-lidded and glazed over like a dead mackerel.

The young man studied a moment, appearing equally baked, before speaking. "You like pizza?"

"I'd eat the asshole of a rotten skunk right about now, so I'd say that's affirmative, compadre." Beetle answered, feeling desperate as fuck.

As his newfound weed inhaling partner materialized a big, greasy, dripping pizza on the small table between them, Beetle chuckled darkly. "Hehe...Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" he grinned, grabbing the biggest, most offensive slice of lard-laden heaven he could find and taking a giant bite. Of course, once he'd done so, he realized it tasted nothing short of corrugated cardboard. "Fuck! Of course!" he said, slapping his forehead, before turning back to the young man, who was eating that pizza like it was a hot piece of ass. "Heya, buddy...Could ya do me another solid?"

"Mmm...What?" the man asked, his brows furrowed in what seemed to be irritation for ruining his intimate moment with a piece of fucking food.

"Could you...uh...poof me a big jar of dead bugs?" Beetle hesitated, feeling weird as hell for asking someone that very strange, very specific question.

The man's face twisted more. "What?! Why?"

"Fuck it." Beetle muttered, knowing he'd have to explain. "I'm kinda cursed. I gotta eat bugs or everything tastes like a cold turd, okay? And before ya ask anymore questions, I'd juice this stuff here myself, but muh wife has all my powers an' shit."

"Cursed? What kind of curse? How long have you been cursed? Why does your wife have your power-" he began rapid-fire questioning, as Beetle decided to immediately cut him off.

"What the fuck is this, a job interview?! Do I get the bugs er' not?" he snapped, hoping the little fuckwad would shut it and give him some food before he resorted to stumbling around the ship with a flyswat.

"Fine. Bruh, ya don't have to be so defensive." he muttered dejectedly, before materializing a big jar of dead insects on the table.

"I knew you'd understand." Beetle smiled wickedly, grabbing said jar and sprinkling his pizza with the particularly disturbing contents. He then took another large bite, feeling satisfied with the grotesque seasoning. "Oh yeah..." he drawled, knowing damn well he was making moans one would usually make when banging a hot chick, and not giving a sky blue fuck that he was.

He then turned to his stoner buddy who currently stared at him like he was watching someone commit mass murder. "Uh...Does your wife know you eat that?"

"Yeah. She don't mind." Beetle shrugged, slurping up a string of cheese laced with bug parts. "What's it to ya."

"No wonder you don't want to lose her." he mumbled, slowly setting his pizza slice back in the box with a disgusted look on his face.

Beetle lowered his pizza, turning to the little dickhead and narrowing his eyes. "Thanks, pal. Ya really know how tuh' make a guy feel better." he remarked, wanting very much to yank that reefer pipe out of the fucker's hands and bitch slap him with it. _ Asshole._

* * *

"Goodnight!" Lydia called out, quietly shutting her bedroom door behind her. Despite everything, she was happy to have a little girls night with two people she loved.

She juiced herself into a nightgown, staring at the empty, crooked bed. "Ugh...BJ..." she shook her head, realizing that he'd probably broken it. She pointed a finger at it, repairing it to its former state. "That's better." she smiled widely, feeling a bit tipsy from drinking throughout the night.

Lydia fell into bed, pulling the satin sheets over herself and staring at the empty side, wondering what Beetle was up to. Hopefully, he was behaving himself and not giving her anymore reasons to flee far, far away. Feeling a pang of sadness well up inside herself, she immediately dismissed those depressing ruminations. She pointed at the light over head, turning it out and leaving herself in darkness, where she could hear nothing but the sound of the ocean waves and her own breathing in the silence of night.

As she let the crashing of the ocean lull her into sleep, she closed her eyes, drifting into unconsciousness.

_...Lydia...Lydia..._

_ ...Lydia...Where are you...?_

Lydia's eyes burst open, as she shot up in bed, panting heavily as the voice jolted her from sleep. She looked about herself, feeling confused. "M-mom? Is that you?"


	35. Silence Is Golden

Chapter 35: Silence Is Golden

Beetle opened his glazed eyes, wiping the drool from his lips as he turned to see his former smoking buddy passed out, his bong still blazing in his hand. He grinned deviously, sliding it out of the young man's grip to take for himself. Despite nearly blacking out, his ass was still on cloud nine and he wasn't about to waste his gloriously fucked up state with sleep.

He pushed himself up, sucking on the mouthpiece and taking the longest hit he could muster, holding it in as he looked around himself, noting the whole ship had come to life. Topless chicks were running about and shaking their asses to some blaring rap music, drunk guys were guzzling beer from kegs, and people of all ages were staggering around fucked up on all kinds of different, probably illegal substances. Honestly, it was probably the most magnificent thing Beetle had seen in a long time.

Beetlejuice let the smoke drift up from his lips, before choking on the massive hit he'd taken, as he haphazardly stumbled to his feet.

"Heh. Comin' through folks!" he staggered along, leaving his unconscious buddy to fend for himself. "Uh...S'cuse me." he muttered awkwardly, as a drunk chick nearly ran his ass over. He shrugged, trying to make his way to the front of the ship, where less inebriated ballbags and naked broads would be blocking his view of the ocean.

"Hey, man! You wanna try this?" Some young prick wearing a jersey and a backwards hat came up to him, holding a bag of what seemed to be shrooms.

"Hell no!" Beetle scowled. "I wanna feel good, not think my skin is meltin' off my face." he growled, before staggering away.

As he pushed through the sea of intoxicated morons and bare, unmentionable appendages, he finally made it to his destination. Of course, when he arrived there, he noticed a certain _someone_ standing in his view.

His lazy eyes grew wider. "Chuck?" he called out, grabbing Lydia's father's attention. The man had been leaning on the rails, gazing at the sea with a beer in his hand.

"Huh?" Chuckie whipped around, locking eyes with Beetle. Just like himself, the man was completely plastered, his eyes glassy and wide. Upon catching sight of him, a big, shit-eating grin spread across Chuck's lips.

Given the fact that he'd bitched both Adam and Chuck out earlier, he realized that he probably should have felt a bit awkward around the man. However, his brain threw that notion clear out the window. He was staring into the eyes of Lydia's shit-faced father holding a blazing bong in his hand. It was safe to say that they were a little past being uncomfortable at this point.

"Uh...Havin' a good time, Chuckie Boy?" Beetle asked, before taking an unabashedly long hit off his pipe.

"Haha! Best time I've had in years!" Charles beamed, eyeing the partying dead folks around them. "It feels so good to cut loose and have a little fun, ya know?"

"Heh. I'm with ya, Chuckster..." Beetle drawled, smoke snaking from his grimy lips, before he narrowed his eyes at Lydia's father. "Er...How much fun?" he questioned, growing a tad bit wary. He hoped that Chuck's good time had consisted of getting wasted and gambling, and NOT getting a piece of ass. Why Beetle still cared, he had not the slightest fucking idea, but somehow he did.

"Oh, uh, not THAT. Delia would know. She's too cunning." he shook his head, his expression filling with mortal fear. He damn near thought Chuck's life was flashing before his eyes. "Like a rabid panther."

"So yer still too scared to, huh?" Beetle made sure, eyeing him up and down suspiciously.

"Oh yeah." Chuck yelped, eyes wide, nodding vehemently like a puppet with a hand up its ass.

"Heh. Well, that makes two of us, pal!" Beetlejuice cackled, slapping Chuck on the back, while simultaneously feeling much relief that Lydia's father wasn't partaking in the Horizontal Polka.

"You...uh...look like you're having fun." Chuck smirked, eyeing Beetle's bong in what seemed to be an attempt at a civil conversation. Maybe this was Chuckie's attempt at offering the proverbial olive branch. Then again, maybe Beetle was too fried to tell either way. Yeah, probably that.

Either way, he was feeling pretty damned good right about now, so he wasn't going to fight it. "Hell yeah I am..." a devious smile snaked its way onto Beetlejuice's lips. He held out the blazing pipe. "Want some?"

He watched as Chuck eyed the bong, an equally wicked smile forming on his own features. He slowly took the pipe, handing over the rest of his beer to Beetle. "Sure, why not?"

Beetle turned up Chuckie's beer, taking a huge gulp. He turned back to Lydia's father, who was blazing it up, as he smirked. "You know what, Chuck? Yer alright." He slapped him on the back again, causing him to cough as he exhaled a strong-smelling cloud around them both.

* * *

Beetle sat alongside his father-in-law, watching the rippling waters of the bright, neon-lit swimming pool, and feeling damn near hypnotized by it. He was pretty sure he'd entered a state of Nirvana, when some drunken cock-gobbler had staggered along the side of it, before slipping and falling in. Somehow, against all odds and a shit ton of reefer, that moment snapped him back to reality. "Hehehe. Another one bites the dust...Keep 'em comin'. I got all night to watch, and I'm keepin' score, bitches..." he chuckled, leaning back in the beach chair with his arms folded back behind his head in smug satisfaction.

"That's the fifth one tonight." Charles snorted, his eyes damn-near dilated to the size of quarters.

It seemed that the longer into the night the both of them had managed to remain conscious, the sloppier and more inebriated the other passengers became, and the more wasted their fellow revelers were, the more entertainment was thus provided. Beetle had already witnessed two drunken fights, at least six projectile vomiting sprees, and to add to the complimentary drunken pool falls, he considered himself quite lucky to greedily pick up every beer that various drunken dipshits had set in his vicinity, and those fuckers had left him quite the plentiful bounty!

"Yeah, ain't it great?" Beetlejuice slurred, gazing down at himself just to make sure he wasn't actually levitating. No? Okay, he was good.

"It really is." Chuckie smiled, taking a huge gulp of beer. He then turned to Beetle. "You wanna know a secret?"

Beetle's brow furrowed. "Er...What?"

"Adam walked past me about a dozen times today. I've been dodging him this whole time!" Chuck guffawed, his carefree laughter oddly amusing, considering he was usually a big, nervous pussy.

"HAHAHA! It ain't no secret, buddy! I knew that shit the moment he came by lookin' fer ya!" Beetle wheezed in amusement. "Looks like Barbara's little bitch finally gave up!" He cackled, realizing this Chuck wasn't the jittery, anxiety-ridden, hard to conversate with version he'd previously had the misfortune to encounter, along with the rest of Lydia's insufferable family members. No, this was a much more laid-back, jovial, and dare he say _fun _version, which meant this would be the perfect time to strike. A lesser, more prideful, and way more self-respecting man probably wouldn't attempt to grovel his way into his father-in-law's good graces. However, Beetlejuice was just in luck, because he had zero pride left, even less respect for anything, and the current self-esteem of a bloated corpse dangling on the end of a noose. Yeah, he was ready to grovel. For sure.

"Eh-herm!" Beetlejuice cleared his throat, before turning to Charles, who was currently staring a hole through two broads in G-strings grinding on each other to the beat of the music. "So, uh, Chuck...Chuckie-boy? Over here!" Beetle waved his hand, trying to get the fucker's attention and failing miserably. "CHUCK!" he yelled, snapping Lydia's father out of his horny, ass-induced stupor.

"Oh! Yeah? What is it?" he asked, looking not unlike a deer in the headlights.

"Uh...I've been meanin' to ask ya somethin'." Beetle began, picking his beer off the deck and drinking it just to barricade any weird emotions that might potentially have bled through his heavy fog of intoxication. "What do ya think about yer daughter bein' with me? Like, _really _think. No bullshit."

Chuck, who was clearly too wasted to give a shit, spoke. "I think it's weird," he snorted, grinning from ear-to-ear.

Well, his reaction wasn't exactly great, or even good, for that matter. It wasn't necessarily bad, either, so that was a potential plus. However, Beetle was far from satisfied with that answer. He narrowed his eyes, as Chuck's smile faded slightly. "Do you still hate me for all that shit I did?"

He watched as Charles studied on his question for a moment, before downing the rest of the beer he was holding. "I can't believe I'm going to say this," he began apprehensively, shaking his head in what seemed to be disbelief. "But I don't think so..."

Beetlejuice's eyebrows shot up like they were ready for lift off. "Really? Not, _fuck no, I hate your guts, _or anything?"

Chuck shook his head, seeming sincere, despite being completely and utterly sloshed. "For some reason, no..." he mumbled, seeming somehow disturbed by his own admission.

Well, that _was _different! Still, despite his growing hope, Beetle found himself feeling leery to Chuckie's replies. His brow furrowed. "Why?"

"I dunno." Charles shrugged, picking another half-empty bottle off the floor of the deck and sloshing it around. "Maybe it's all this booze."

"Figures." Beetle muttered, slinking back in his chair defeatedly.

Then, much as fate would have it, Adam-fucking-Maitland himself came galloping up to them, panting and red-faced.

"There you are!" he wheezed, nearly out of breath as he locked eyes with Chuck, who looked like he'd just seen a ghost.

"Uh..." Charles mumbled, quickly chugging his beer to the bottom, which was a wise response to seeing the likes of Adam.

"What are you doing with _him_?" Adam straightened himself, scowling as he pointed his stupid finger in Beetle's direction.

"Fuck, Adam! What are ya? A jealous girlfriend?" Beetle snarked, his newly shitty mood dropping further.

"No! He just doesn't need to be hanging around YOU!" Adam raised his voice, in an attempt to pretend he actually had a pair.

"Look, why don't you just stay here and forget about watching me? Have a cold one." Chuckie grabbed yet another beer off the floor, holding it up for Adam, who curled up his nose in disgust.

"It has a cigarette butt in it..." he frowned.

"Who cares, pal? It can't hurt ya. If you haven't noticed, yer already six feet under!" Beetle scoffed.

Adam gritted his teeth, looking more tense by the second. "That's not even the point! Regardless of what he drinks, he doesn't need to be getting chummy with YOU! You're a bad influence! You've already polluted Lydia's mind! The last thing we need is for you to start conning US with your lies and...and...BULLSHIT!" Adam fumed, flailing about, apparently losing his temper.

Feeling his blood begin to boil, Beetle jumped up from his seat, ignoring the severe, trippy vertigo he felt from doing so. He'd had more than enough of Adam's bullshit. "OKAY! ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT! I GET IT!" he yelled, stepping up to Adam and getting right in his nerdy face. "You don't like me? Fine. The feeling's mutual, pal. Regardless of that shit, me an' Chuckie Boy don't give a fuck about your valiant attempts to protect his innocence, DO WE CHUCK?!" he ranted, turning to Charles.

"No. Not really." Charles shrugged, still way too trashed to even remotely give a fuck.

"Look-" Adam attempted to interject, but Beetle quickly cut him off.

"AH AH AH! NO YOU DON'T! I AIN'T FINISHED!" he closed in on Adam, causing him to back up a couple of steps. "I invited YOUR ass on this cruise and all you've done is shit on me fer doin' NOTHIN'! Yeah, I was a prick! Yeah, I may have _accidentally_ held all of you hostage, while waging a war against my wife! So SUE ME!"

"ACCIDENTALLY?! YOU-" Adam attempted to run his cocksucker once more, but Beetle made sure to put a stop to it again.

"NO! You listen to ME! You can run around like yer some morally superior little snitch, you can try to provoke me into doin' somethin' stupid, and you can throw up my past like it's a fuckin' sport, but you're NOT gonna get anywhere! I AIN'T gonna fuck Lydia over. End of story. I'm not sayin' it again!" he growled, pointing to the empty chair beside Charles. "Now, sit down, shut up, and enjoy yourself before I LOSE MY FUCKIN' MIND!" he screamed, as Adam deliberately backed away like prey cowering from a really large, really pissed off, potentially rabid carnivore.

Adam slowly seated himself beside Charles, staring ahead and appearing at a loss for words. _About fucking time. _

Charles looked over to Beetle, smirking with much contentment. Apparently he was pleased that Beetle had shut Barbara's little man-bitch up for once. He then raised the cigarette-tainted beer up to offer it to Adam once more.

"Give me that!" Adam huffed, yanking the beer from Charles' hand and taking a big gulp.

"Now, that's more like it..." Beetle sniggered, satisfied that he'd finally put that dick-licking squealer in his place.


	36. Inebriated Revelations

Chapter 36: Inebriated Revelations

Beetle glanced out from the corner of his eye, past Charles' currently empty chair and over to Adam, who sat brooding with his arms folded and another, possibly tainted, beer in his hand.

"What?" Adam groaned, finally making eye contact with him again.

Beetle sighed, feeling somewhere between having a glimmer of hope for his future and jumping into the ocean with a cinderblock in his hands. "You need to lightin' up, pal..." he moaned, feeling a bit beaten down at this point.

"No, I don't. I'm the only person here who hasn't taken a nose dive off the deep-end! One of us has to have their wits about them, and let's face it, it's not Charles. He's too busy celebrating his time away from Delia to care." Adam griped, bringing his palm up to cover his face in sheer frustration.

"Let him have his fun." Beetle scolded. "You'd be livin' it up too if you were stuck with that neurotic hobgoblin he married."

"Oh, C'mon! Delia isn't _that _bad..." Adam shook his head. "It's not like she's some ugly, evil person."

"Nah, she ain't bad to look at. She knows it, too. You'd better believe she holds that shit over Chuck's head like it's some kind of door prize! Probably why he can't keep his eyes off these broads. Poor fucker's deprived as hell!" Beetle chuckled, using Lydia's father's unfortunate circumstances to make him feel exponentially better concerning his own. "Ugly, no. Not so sure about the _evil_ part, though..."

"She's not." Adam sighed.

"She used my demise for inspiration to make the scariest fuckin' dildo I've ever seen! You don't have to sleep with that thing next to your bed at night! Don't you tell me about evil!" Beetle growled, his skin crawling with the fact that everyone was somehow amused with the possibility of him becoming Sandworm shit.

"Whatever, " Adam rolled his eyes, taking another drink of his beer. "Is that_ all_ you think about? I only hear two subjects from you: one consists of practically nothing but shit-talking, and the other seems to be some weird obsession with sex."

Beetle feigned a large, wide grin. "Glad ya noticed!"

"No. Seriously. I'm really confused here..." Adam turned in his seat to completely shift his body toward Beetlejuice. His expression shifted from one of pure annoyance to that of a sober, inquisitive state. "If that _is_ who you are...Why is a guy like you with Lydia? What do you get out of all this?"

Suddenly, Beetle found himself stunned by Adam's lack of accusatory tone for once. He genuinely seemed to want to know what was going on. Beetle raised a brow. "If I tell ya, you think you'll be satisfied?"

Adam shrugged. "Depends."

"Oh, hell, it's worth a try..." Beetle muttered to himself, before stepping over and sitting in Chuck's empty chair. "I don't normally say this shit to anyone but Lydia, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I figure I'm sinkin' here, so I'd better pay up before it's too late."

"What does that mean?" Adam asked, appearing perplexed.

"It means she's a special gal." Beetle began, feeling really weird and uncomfortable, but forcing himself to speak anyway. "It's no secret that I've been a bad guy. I was a con man and a criminal when I was alive, and I was one in the Neitherworld, too. Infamous, even! Everyone was either scared of me, or downright hated my ass! I cheated, lied, banged hookers and didn't pay, got kicked out of a well-known nightclub for gropin' broads. I mean, it was only three times, and not that shitty rumor that it was more, 'cause it wasn't. Probably came from those two bimbos I used to rip off. Fugly sluts always liked lyin' on my ass..."

"Okay, okay! I get it!" Adam interrupted his bout of rambling to pull him back to the subject at hand.

"Anyway, I was a scummy guy, and I ran with shady people, and despite all my shit-talking, as YOU so eloquently put it, I was a downright miserable fucker. That was, until Lydia came back. At first I thought she was up to somethin'...Maybe gettin' revenge on me for tryin' to marry her, or just rubbin' it in my face that I couldn't use her to get out anymore." Beetle explained.

"Lydia would never do that." Adam immediately defended her.

"Exactly!" Beetle exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "But I was so used to bein' surrounded by cockwads that I didn't trust it. A' course...then she apologized! To ME! A miserable hornball! A sleazy con-man! A professional douchebag! The guy that killed good vibes like they were on his hit list! Formerly numero uno on Neitherworld's most wanted!" He paused a moment, realizing he wasn't doing himself any favors. Beetle awkwardly cleared his throat, before continuing."I gotta say...that threw me for a loop! I swear to the Powers That Be, I never had anyone pull that shit in my whole life OR beyond! That started it."

"Started what?" Adam asked, seeming to be drawn in to what he was saying.

"I loved her, pal. Like almost instantaneously! It scared the shit outta me! I couldn't fight it. Before I know it, I'm not lookin' to bang strange, unsightly broads anymore, I'm behavin' myself, I'm puttin' the toilet seat down...Basically, I'm turinin' into a lovesick, pussy whipped little bitch and bein' okay with it, for once."

"And that's what makes her so special? You put the toilet seat down?" Adam shot him a look of dissatisfaction upon hearing him thus far.

"NO! Fuck me..." Beetle wipe a hand over his face, knowing that he had to be completely vulnerable to even have a chance of getting through to Adam. "I didn't wanna talk all sappy like this, but be warned, you made me do it!" Beetlejuice snapped, balling his hands into fists.

"Just get on with it." Adam sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"She's the best thing that ever happened to me. I was a lonely, miserable guy who never thought in a million years I'd get a girl like that. She's a kind person. Not one person has ever cared about what I do. No one can stand me enough to. Except her. She gave a shit when no one else did. She's the best person I know. I wanna be a better guy just because of her. I don't know what I'd do without her. I ain't just sayin' that, either. No one else comes close. I could sit here and tell ya all her good qualities, but then we'd have to extend our little trip, and I know you don't want that shit!" Beetle explained, hoping that Adam would understand him and not just dismiss him and leave him feeling humiliated for being so honest.

Adam eyed him up and down, his body language still hinting at a traces of skepticism. "If all that is true, then why would you treat her the way you did?"

"You want the truth?" Beetle raised a brow, watching Adam nod silently to his inquiry. "Alright then. If yer talkin' about the hostage thing, it really was because I was gonna get exorcized. I was always used to screwin' people over and vice versa. There were just times when I thought she was too good to be true. That's why all the other bad stuff I've ever done happened. In my mind, there was no way some nice, gorgeous chick was gonna be around my ass without a catch. But no matter how many times I doubted, Lydia always came through for me. And everytime she came through, she was more selfless than before. She's the real deal. Look, I know I don't deserve her, but I do love that girl more than anyone. I don't even care about muhself that much, and I'm a pretty selfish asshole, if ya get mah drift." he finally paused, feeling the brutal sting of pouring his heart out to the likes of _Adam_.

He grimaced, waiting for Adam to attack him and make him feel like shit again, but by some strange miracle, that hadn't happened yet. He simply averted his eyes from Beetle, his chin resting on his hand in deep thought. Okay, that was unnerving as hell. "Uh, I mean I can get down on mah knees and beg, if ya want me to." Beetle said, preparing to grovel like a bootlicking sycophant for Lydia's sake. "I mean, I've behaved myself. You've seen it. I don't ogle broads, I don't grope asses, I don't-"

"I know." Adam exhaled, shaking his head. "I saw you."

Now it was Beetlejuice's turn to appear baffled. "Wait. Whaddaya mean?"

"I sort of _spied _on you off and on throughout the night. I figured you'd have your guard down and I'd catch you messing up, but I didn't. I mean, you got wasted and rambled on like an idiot for hours, but you weren't acting like you used to." Adam admitted. "Come to think of it, you've acted different since we arrived."

Normally, upon hearing such treachery, Beetle would proceed to smash a beer bottle over Adam's head and call it a night, but there was a deep, possible saving grace to what the man was admitting. "So, uh...If you noticed a change already, why didn't ya believe it?" Beetle asked, holding back on his normal sarcasm.

"The same reason you didn't believe Lydia. I didn't trust you." Adam shrugged. "Seemed too good to be true. I thought Lydia was covering for you when she told us everything."

"Just be straight with me, Adam. Is there any hope in me fixin' this mess I made, or is it too late?" Beetle asked in earnest, not caring that he felt like he was on some shitty daytime soap opera at the moment.

Adam inhaled deeply. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but..."

Beetle's eyes lit up with surprise. "So yer tellin me there's a chance?!"

Adam reluctantly nodded, causing Beetle to spring up out of his seat like a man possessed. "HELL YEAH! HEEEEY, HERMANO!" he cackled, pulling Adam up and forcing him into a big, totally unnecessary bear hug. "Put her there, Pal!" he exclaimed, sounding like an Italian mobster trying to make a deal, while forcing Adam to shake his hand. "You an' me? We're family now! Awww, this is great! Just wait 'till the wife finds out!"

However, his celebration had been cut short by a commotion in the crowd, causing he and Adam to both stop and gaze at the ruckus. Chuck stood in the crowd, wide-eyed and shaking like a dog pissing a razor blade. Towering over him was a huge, muscle-bound meathead, poking his finger right in Chuckie's face.

"You're gonna pay for that, you little bastard!" the giant-esque man yelled in Charles' face, backing him against a rail.

"I-I was just talking to her. I d-didn't mean to..." Charles stammered, trying to scoot away from the big, scary bastard.

Adam looked to Beetlejuice. "I knew his little bathroom break was taking too long."

Beetle, instantly puffed up from a mixture of newfound hope, copious amounts of marijuana, and exponential amounts of booze, pushed past Adam. "I'll deal with that overgrown jizz stain."

Adam stumbled along behind him. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Pfffft! What could go wrong?" Beetle snorted, waving dismissively to Adam.


	37. Communication Is The Key

Chapter 37: Communication Is The Key

"C'mon! Move your legs!" Adam huffed, lifting up Beetle's right arm.

"I'm tryin', damnit!" Beetlejuice grunted, attempting to take actual steps, yet failing miserably. "Fuck!" he winced, his legs buckling underneath him.

"We're almost there!" Charles exclaimed, pointing to their room door, and nearly dropping Beetle to the floor in the process.

"Hey, watch it, Chuck!" Beetle growled. "Wasn't takin' an ass whoopin' enough to satisfy ya? What are ya, some kinda' sadist?"

Charles quickly shut his trap, while Adam proceeded to open his once more. "I told you it wasn't a good idea..."

"No shit!" Beetle snapped, as the two men steadied him in front of the door. He then turned to Adam, feeling like twice cooked hell and wanting nothing more than to lay down and pass out in peace. "Ugh...The card's in muh pocket."

"I'm not reaching in there!" Adam scowled, apparently offended by this.

"You tryin' to flatter me er' somethin? I mean, I work with what I got, but it ain't big enough for you to bump into it." Beetle snorted, instantly wincing from the regret of laughing when one's entrails were more than likely ready to fall out one's asshole. "Just get the fuckin' thing!" he hissed through clinched teeth.

Adam sighed, before reluctantly complying. "Fine. Just don't _ move _or anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Beetle scoffed, watching the man quickly reach into his pocket, producing a strange 'eek', and jerking the keycard out like his hand was on fire.

"S-something touched me in there!" Adam squealed. "What the hell is in your pocket?!"

"Oh." Beetle grunted, immediately remembering just what was almost always crawling around his garments. "It's muh curse. Kinda' got a minor..._pest problem_."

Adam shot him his signature bewildered ignoramus expression, while Chuckie seemed to stay in his lane and use good old fashioned denial to pretend he wasn't actually disturbed by that very fact. Needless to say, it was highly awkward, even more irritating, and unbelievably painful to just wait ceaselessly while those two stood there with their dicks in the dirt.

"CAN YOU JUST OPEN THE FUCKIN' DOOR ALREADY?!" Beetle howled.

* * *

"NOT IN THE JEWELS!" Beetle yowled, flailing himself awake as he rolled off the sofa, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

He awoke to both Adam and Charles staring at him in what seemed to be a mixture of both amusement and horror. "Ugh..." he winced, holding the wounded arm he'd been unconsciously flailing while reexperiencing the previous night's unfortunate gonad onslaught. "The fuck're you two lookin' at?"

"I'm not sure... " Adam smirked.

"What, ya never seen a guy sleep before?" Beetle growled, trying to push himself up, but feeling too weak and in pain to do such a thing.

"Uh, here. Let me help." Chuck stumbled up from the bottom bunk, holding out a hand. Well, that was new.

Beetle paused, locking eyes with the man he'd gotten his testicles kicked down his own throat to save. "Er...Thanks, Pops." he managed to mutter, hoping his attempt to be all heroic and shit wasn't in vain. He reasoned that he'd at least kept Lydia's father from getting beaten three ways to hell and back, so he considered that some sort of victory, anyway. Charles pulled him up, as he dropped onto the sofa, grimacing _hard_, for the sensation felt identical to plopping his ass on a hot cattle prod.

Much to his surprise, Charles seated himself beside Beetlejuice. "Look, uh, BJ, right?"

Beetle shrugged. "That's what they call me."

"Well, BJ, I owe you an apology." Charles admitted, rubbing his forehead and appearing generally uncomfortable altogether.

"Uh, wut?" Beetle's face wrinkled in confusion. Was he still asleep? Or wasted? _Both?_ "Come again?"

"I never gave you a fair chance. I mean," Charles fumbled about, staring at the floor. "I'm pretty sure I had good reasons for that. You _did_ hold my family hostage on _multiple_ occasions after all, and you_ did_ try to force my daughter into marriage. You threw me down a staircase once..."

"Yeah. I get it, Chuck." Beetle interjected, hoping to quickly nudge him past all that disturbing, potentially criminal shit so he wouldn't change his mind.

"I guess, what I'm saying is that by some very strange twist of fate, you seem to be..._different_ now. I didn't believe Lydia at first, but I think she's right. Thanks for saving my ass last night." Charles grinned, holding out his hand.

Beetle's eyebrows shot up in further surprise. "Uh, sure. Anytime, Pops." he reciprocated the handshake in awe. "An' don't you worry about my ass. My hostage-takin' days are behind me. I swear it!" he grinned widely, beginning to feel pretty satisfied with himself.

"Good." Charles chuckled nervously, wiping his sweaty hands on his pant legs. "If I really look at it, I guess we're _all_ a little crazy, huh?"

"Speak for yourselves." Adam snorted, climbing down from the top bunk and stretching. "What possessed you to fight that guy, anyway?" he asked Beetle, while stiffly scratching his back.

"Uh...I sorta' forgot I didn't have muh powers." Beetle admitted, remembering seeing his life flash before his eyes after pointing at the big, muscle bound fucker and realizing he couldn't send him flying off the ship. "I guess fifty gallons of booze and a bunch of ganja will do that to ya."

"You were pretty trashed." Adam laughed, falling back into a chair and appearing to reminisce over the previous night.

"So, I guess this is our last day." Charles slyly stated, rubbing his hands together mischievously. "What are our plans?"

Beetle glared at him. "Really, pal? I practically need a full body cast and you're ready to go out prowlin' again?"

"Absolutely nothing." Adam scowled. "If you go out and get yourself in trouble this time, you're on your own."

"Uh..." Charles' smile faded. "On second thought, I'll probably just relax here."

"That's what I thought." Adam smirked, leaning his head back against the wall.

* * *

Lydia observed Barbara as she stood over the stove, gingerly poking at the eggs she was currently scrambling. She welcomed the warm nostalgia that brought her back to Winter Rivers as a young girl, being quietly reminded of old times.

"So what did Rose say to you? Did she tell you where she was?" Barbara inquired, appearing very intrigued by Lydia's telepathic family reunion of sorts.

"I think she tried, but her voice came through so weakly in my mind...I tried asking her, but I just couldn't understand her past a certain point. I know she's very far away. I can tell it somehow. I thought I'd be able to locate her. Paradise really must be a monstrous plane of existence. Things like that were a piece of cake in the Nietherworld..." Lydia mused, tapping the handle of her coffee mug in contemplation.

"Were you able to tell her anything?" Barbara asked, stepping over and emptying part of the freshly cooked contents of the skillet into Lydia's plate.

"I think so...I mean, I tried. I hope my message got through to her." Lydia briefly pondered over the matter, mentally double-checking herself. "Yeah, definitely. With BJ's powers, I'm sure of it."

"So?" Barbara smiled with anticipation, seating herself beside Lydia with a plate of her own. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her I was on the South Side of Paradise. I'm guessing she's on the other end. I tried to tell her more, but she faded out on me." Lydia shrugged. "It's okay, though. She'll be here soon. If not, I'll go find her myself if I have to. Either way, I'm just glad I'll get to see her again." She smiled warmly, remembering sitting with her biological mother at breakfast just like she currently was with her formerly ghostly, adoptive one.

Barbara reached over, laying her hand on top of Lydia's and giving it a comforting squeeze. "I'm happy for you, honey. I can't wait to meet her myself."

Lydia smiled in return. "You two would like each other," she said, sipping on her fresh coffee. "Delia, I'm not so sure about," she sniggered, causing a smirk to curl on Barbara's face as well. Suddenly missing the person in question, Lydia's brow furrowed. "Where is she, anyway?"

"I think she's still asleep. She was up nearly all night making noise in her room. I could barely sleep because of it." she admitted, shaking her head.

"Figures." Lydia rolled her eyes. "She's probably making more art for me."

"Oh, come now. She tries." Barbara scolded.

"You're not the one who has to hang that stuff on your wall." Lydia shot her a look, as she stuffed eggs in her mouth.

"You have a point, there." Barbara nodded.


	38. Trust

Chapter 38: Trust

"Bullshit..." Beetle muttered under his breath, realizing he was getting his ass handed to him for the hundredth time. "I got nuthin'," he grunted, folding and tossing his cards on the table. He puffed on the stub of a cigar he had left, before flicking it out the open window behind him.

"I fold." Adam shook his head, placing his cards on the table. He then proceeded to knock back a small bottle of liquor.

Charles spread his cards out on the table with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Gentleman, I lay before you a _Royal Flush_..." he announced smugly, placing his cigar back in his mouth.

"I've never been beaten so much in my life." Adam smirked, lighting up a cigar of his own.

"'Cause you suck." Beetle snorted, prompting a sharp look from Adam. He then turned to Lydia's father. "How the hell are ya gettin' this lucky? You cheatin' er' somethin'?" he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"No, sir!" Chuck grinned widely, his cigar clinched between his teeth. "Back in my living years I had many poker nights with my former colleagues. We'd bet on investments, shares, you name it. Let's just say Lady Luck was on my side." He chuckled as he shuffled the cards again.

"Sure, pal..." Beetle sniggered. That sealed it. Whether by his dead-guy powers or a former breather method, that fucker was cheating like there was no tomorrow. Nevertheless, he found himself proud of the Chuckster. Who knew he could be such a douchebag? It kind of warmed his heart, to be honest.

Charles began dealing the cards. "Who's ready to go again?"

"Awful kind of ya to deal EVERY game, Pops." Beetle grinned knowingly, watching Chuck grow a little uncomfortable under his gaze. "Wouldn't want us to strain a muscle or anything..." he remarked, glancing at Adam, who'd clearly caught on to what was happening.

"Actually, you know what? I think it's a little unfair to make you do _all _the work." Adam insisted, smirking as his eyes narrowed in on Charles. "How about I take all that responsibility off of you." he asked innocently, before snatching the deck out of Chuck's hand.

Charles shrugged uncomfortably. "Uh, sure. Why not?"

"That a boy, Pops!" Beetle cackled, slapping the table and causing the many small liquor bottles resting on it to clink together in response. "Don't worry, I'm sure Lady Luck'll still put out for ya!"

Adam placed his cigar down in the nearby ashtray, shuffling the deck. "I've got to win at something before we get off this ship in the morning."

"Good luck with that." Beetle laughed, grabbing another small bottle of booze off the table and taking a shot from it.

"I have to say, I'm going to miss this." Chuck admitted, as Beetle furrowed his brow in response.

"Uh, whaddaya mean exactly? All the tits and booze? Or_ this_?" Beetle asked, gesturing to all three of them.

"I'd say a little of both, actually." Charles admitted, somehow giving Beetle hope that Lydia wouldn't boot his ass back out the door upon arrival. The way she'd looked at him before they left was a good indicator that she'd been considering it. Perhaps those two wouldn't try to tell her to leave him. Maybe they'd cut him a little slack for once. Maybe.

"So, uh...You guys think you can tolerate my ass now?" Beetle asked in earnest, curious to what his actual chances were in this situation. "Like you won't go runnin' to Lyds to tell her what a shitface I am?"

"Nope." Charles immediately answered, shrugging.

Beetlejuice, along with Chuck himself, turned their attention to Adam, who'd stopped what he was doing mid-shuffle. He looked to them, appearing offended. "Why are you two looking at me like that?! No. I don't have anything to tell her. So the answer is _no_."

Beetle grinned in satisfaction, feeling like Lady Luck herself had just come back fresh from a Brazillian bikini wax and sat square on his face. In fact, he was so happy, that he completely forgot about the fact that he'd been beaten three ways to hell and back. That horrible head, body, and testicle pain didn't seem quite so insufferable at the moment.

"Alright, then." Beetle sighed in relief, lighting himself another Cuban cigar in celebration. He took a long drag off of it, leaning back in his seat with his hands behind his head. "I'm glad you boys came around."

He looked to Chuck, who nodded, grinning with a shifty expression on his face as he knocked back another drink. "My Lydia gets what she wants. Who am I to deprive her?"

"I won't let ya down, Pops. I swear it. Cross muh heart." Beetle sniggered, taking his cigar from his lips and gesturing a big "X" across his chest with it.

"Just don't do anything stupid from now on, okay?" Adam raised a brow, seeming to scold him for a final time.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Beetle leaned forward and threw his arms out, pulling the two of them in just for the sheer hell of it all. "I'm a new man! Restored! New and improved! Reformed! Rehabilitated! Ya won't regret this, fellas! Promise!"

* * *

Lydia stood with Gerald at the entrance of her hut, watching the giant cruise ship dock in the distance. "Well, I guess that's my cue. Thanks for stopping by. Barbara loves you already." Lydia smiled, touching Gerald's shoulder affectionately.

"Well, she is a lovely woman. I can see why she's like a second mother to you." he smiled warmly.

"Oh, and sorry about Delia. She has to show everyone that stuff she makes. And talk about it. Like, constantly." Lydia apologized. "She's just..."

"Eccentric?" Gerald added politely, giving her a telling look as he held up the strange, butt-plug shaped object she'd gifted him upon his arrival.

"I guess that's the nice way of saying it." Lydia smirked, scrunching up her face as she cringed internally, eyeing the offensive item.

"No worries, Lydia. It was a pleasure meeting them." he said, as he was apt to do in his mild-mannered, good natured way. "I guess I'll be on my way now. I know you have things to do." he nodded, with a small tinge of sadness in his voice.

"Wait!" Lydia said, startling Gerald as she grabbed his arm. He simply stared at her, wide-eyed and appearing a bit baffled.

"Thank you for checking up on me, Gerald. I'm sorry I haven't been around lately. I feel like an awful friend. No, I _am_ an awful friend." she admitted, feeling that familiar pang of guilt well up inside of her. "It's just with all this stuff going on with BJ, and my family, and..."

"You don't have to explain, Lydia. I know how Mr. Juice is. I understand." he replied, before growing a bit quiet. He cleared his throat, fidgeting about a bit. "So, how are things going with _him_?" Gerald asked cautiously under his breath, clearly talking about BJ.

"Oh." Lydia paused, feeling a bit caught off-guard. "Believe it or not, he seems to be trying. It was his idea to go on this cruise with Dad and Adam. It's not really like him to suggest anything."

"Ah...Well, that's good news." Gerald nodded, seeming to ponder to himself on the matter. "He _should_ try. I hope things keep looking up for you."

Lydia smiled, feeling a mixture of sadness, guilt, and gratitude when it came to Gerald. He'd helped her so much throughout the years, and he'd been a constant companion in her afterlife for so long, only to get pushed to the side by her gigantic mass of problems time and again. She threw her arms around her dear friend, squeezing him and hoping that things were truly on the upswing this time. "I do too, Gerald."


	39. Success?

Chapter 39: Success?

Lydia stood up from her lawnchair alongside Barbara and Delia, pulling her shades up and feigning a smile to mask the ball of nerves currently whirling about inside of her. She locked eyes with Adam, who smiled in return, though he was looking a bit worse for wear.

"Hey. How'd things go?" she hesitantly asked him, as he dropped his luggage in the sand.

"Well you won't believe this, but surprisingly well." he stated, seeming to damn near not believe his own words.

"It did?" Lydia's eyes grew wide as her father stepped up to her, giving her a big, strangely enthusiastic hug.

"Ah, there's my Pumpkin!" he greeted her, grinning from ear to ear and reeking of booze and cigars.

"It seems like you boys had a good time." Delia chimed in from behind Lydia, as she laid there sunning herself and sipping a margarita.

"Oh, you have_ no_ idea..." Charles replied, stepping over to her and pulling her up from her seat and into himself, causing Lydia to cringe internally from seeing her father's obvious public display of affection. "But I missed you the _whole_ time, honey."

If it was possible for someone's eyes to roll back far enough to come detached, Lydia knew her's would be rolling away in the sand at the sight of them. It was, of course, during that moment of fighting back the urge to projectile vomit all over her relatives, that Barbara's voice pulled Lydia from those very unpleasant musings.

"Where is uh," she spoke hesitantly, awkwardly glancing at Lydia before finishing, "...BJ?"

"Oh, uh..." Adam began hesitantly, glancing back to a figure limping on the beach in the distance. "There he is!"

Lydia shielded the bright sunlight from her eyes, focusing on Beetle's silhouette. He was stopping every few feet, before struggling with his luggage, and ultimately losing the battle, with many of his comically overstuffed suitcases falling onto the shore. "What's wrong with him?"

"Well..." Adam began, as Charles nervously cleared his throat.

"Are you sure everything went well?" Barbara stepped up to Adam, grimacing as she'd apparently caught wind of his smell. "Adam! Have you been drinking?"

"Only a little." he chuckled, fidgeting anxiously.

This was weird. Something was wildly off, and that something provoked Lydia to step past the rest of her family to meet with the more than likely ring leader of whatever unknown debauchery had taken place.

When she'd stepped up to him, he was sitting on one of his overfilled suitcases grumbling to himself, apparently too irritated to be aware of her presence. "So much fer helpin' my ass...Shitheads..."

"BJ?" Lydia spoke, causing him to quickly jump up, only to growl and hold his back after doing so.

"Hey, Babe! Long time no see, amirite?!" he spoke, clearly wincing as he attempted to feign a smile.

"Are you okay?" Lydia studied him, noting that he looked like hell, even by his standards.

"Oh, sure! Sure! Never felt better, Babe!" he exclaimed, trying to pick up his luggage and not appear like he was on the verge of some sort of pain-induced, spontaneous combusiton. However, as soon as he'd picked up two of his suitcases, he fumbled yet again. "SHIT!" he fumed, before attempting to compose himself. "Uh, my bad, Mrs. Juice. Havin' some _minor_ technical difficulties here..."

"Are you _sure _you're okay?" Lydia asked once more, knowing good and well that he knew good and well that she knew he was full of shit. Yup.

"'Course I am! Why wouldn't I be?" he remarked, the visible panic written all over his moldy face.

Lydia sighed, finding his attempts to lie both pathetic and a bit confusing. "Here. Let me help." she insisted, snapping her fingers, as his copious amounts of completely unnecessary luggage vanished. "There. It's all home. Now can you tell me what's going on?" she inquired, feeling both annoyed and a bit uneasy. Just what the fuck had he done this time? Was it something she was going to regret hearing about? _Probably._

"Uh..." he cleared his throat uncomfortably, as Lydia narrowed her eyes, awaiting whatever potential bullshit that was about to spew forth from her husband's grimy lips.

"Well?" she placed her hands on her hips.

"I sorta...had a little fall." Beetle mumbled uncomfortably.

"What?" Lydia's face scrunched up in confusion, as he began limping toward their hut, appearing to try to put some distance between them. Of course, he was hobbling like a patient in a nursing home, so it wasn't working.

He shrugged. "Booze and huge ass flights of stairs don't mix, Babe. Yours truly learned the hard way."

"Oh." Lydia replied, noting his strangely tight-lipped demeanor as she followed him until they approached the others. Then, Beetle promptly plopped himself down in the nearest seat he could find, grunting uncomfortably and flinching as he did so.

Okay, this was just too bizarre. He was obviously not wanting to talk, and that was not only confusing and maddening - it was actually beginning to piss her off. This was HIS big idea to redeem himself, HIS hair-brained attempt at making peace, and yet HE was saying nothing about it. The more she thought about it, the more she realized all three of them acting very unusual.

Lydia exhaled through her nose, interrupting Adam's explanation to Barbara about how well he'd behaved, as she grabbed him by the forearm. "Hey, did BJ fall down the stairs? Is that true?" Lydia asked him, watching his eyebrows shoot up in response to her straightforwardness.

"Um, well...Technically, yes. That's true." Adam explained hesitantly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Barbara interjected, her own eyes narrowing in on Adam.

"Er...Ya see...We all kinda' got shitfaced, and ya know how stuff happens when copious amounts of alcohol gets involved..." Beetlejuice began, scratching his head.

Barbara frowned immediately, looking from Beetle back to Adam. "I thought you said you didn't get drunk."

"I-I mean, not THAT drunk! Maybe I was slightly _tipsy, _but-" he began, only to be interrupted by Beetlejuice himself.

"Gimme a fuckin' break! You were wasted to hell and back!" Beetle laughed maniacally, as Adam began to appear pale and on the verge of running in terror from Barbara's current glare. "Don't worry, Babs. He was a good boy. Promise. Scouts honor." he snorted.

"It's not _him _I'm worried about." Barbara folded her arms, though she seemed just as distrustful as Lydia was currently feeling.

Lydia watched as Adam exchanged a strange glance with Beetle, before beginning to speak again. "He was _thrown _down the stairs." Adam sighed, rubbing his forehead, as Barbara looked back to Lydia.

"Thrown?" Lydia furrowed her brow, turning back to Beetle. "Someone _threw _you?"

"Uh, what can I say, Babe? I guess the ole' B-man just isn't everyone's cup ah tea, knowhaddimean?" he remarked nervously, rubbing his injured arm.

"What did you do?!" Lydia huffed, preparing for whatever shitstorm he was about to unleash and dreading every second of it. There were so many terrible reasons to get in a fight on a boat filled with booze, drugs, and women that she had almost instantly regretted asking him. Though she was trying her best to remain calm, she most certainly felt anything but.

"This better not have anything to do with him being a-a pervert!" Barbara snapped, pointing at Beetle and causing Lydia to bristle immediately in response. That was exactly what she _didn't _want to think about right now. So much for that.

"Hey, now! Who said anything about that shit?!" Beetle fumed indignantly, nervously glancing to Lydia before turning to Adam and throwing up his hands. "For Fuck's sake! Back me up here, Adam!"

Adam instantly tensed up himself. "NO! He's right! It wasn't that!" Adam spoke up, defending BJ, which was alarming to say the least.

"Why are you acting so strange? Something's not right here." Barbara spoke to Adam, appearing frustrated.

"Is there something we should know?" Delia wrinkled up her brow, before turning to Lydia's father, who merely smiled, chuckling nervously.

Lydia sighed, feeling that horrible sinking feeling inside herself. She turned her gaze back to her husband. "What did you do, BJ?" she inquired defeatedly, already fearing for the worst response possible.

"Babe. I didn't do nuthin'! I swear! Some big, drunk bastard threw my ass down the stairs! That's it! We all had a good time, we played nice, and nobody lost any limbs! Can't we just leave it at that?" he pleaded with her, and that only fueled Lydia's suspicions further.

"Sometimes these things just happen." Adam nodded in agreement, which was only making things more baffling and strange. Why would he act that way? What the hell was going on?

"Adam, there are usually _reasons_ people get into fights." Barbara scowled at him.

"I'd _love _to know what happened." Delia interjected, swirling her drink in her hand as she pulled her gawdy shades down on her nose.

"Barbara's right, BJ. What did you do?" Lydia asked, her voice coming out more somber than she'd intended, as his face fell slack. She saw a brief glint of fear in his eyes, causing her to swallow back her emotions. Why did he look that way?

"Eh-hem..." Charles cleared his throat, directing everyone's attention his way. "I-It was me. I, uh, caused it." he admitted, as Lydia felt her mouth gape open just a bit.

Delia immediately snatched her glasses off. "Explain." she demanded, her voice sounding icy and downright evil, as she was indeed capable of bouts of demon-like behavior from time to time. Under any other circumstances, Lydia would have to fight back laughter at this point. However, she was far too freaked out to do such a thing.

"I ran into an intoxicated gentleman. He spilled his beer all over himself and threatened me." her father explained, straightening his collar and fidgeting nervously. "I didn't mean for all that to happen. BJ stepped in and the guy beat him pretty badly. He was no match for him in the slightest. He threw him down those stairs like he was a ragdoll."

"Okay, okay! We get it..." Beetle muttered indignantly.

"Really?" Barbara looked back to Adam. "Is all that true?"

"I'm afraid so." Adam replied, shrugging.

Lydia turned back to Beetle, who was currently struggling to stand up. "There's yer answer, Babe. Other than my massive ass whoopin', me an' the boys had a blast. Right boys?" he exchanged glances with the other two, who surprisingly nodded in unison, appearing not unlike scolded children.

"Oh." Lydia stood there, feeling completely dumbfounded. If Barbara and Delia's expressions were an accurate indicator, she wasn't alone in that feeling.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go lay down and try not to die. Again." Beetle grimaced, limping toward the front door of their hut.

As BJ left Lydia's sight, Barbara turned to Charles, apparently still in disbelief. "Really?"

Lydia's father nodded rapidly, shrugging. "Really."

"Yep." Adam sighed, almost seeming to regret the fact that it was true, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Beetlejuice had accomplished something that Lydia hadn't expected. He'd succeeded.


	40. Power Imbalance

Chapter 40: Power Imbalance

"BJ? Are you okay in there?" Lydia asked quietly, gently pushing the bedroom door open, to reveal her husband, who appeared to have plunked down, face first, on the bed with his legs dangling off the side. His crusty, sand-laden flip-flops were thrown on the floor just as haphazardly as he'd apparently flung himself on their bed.

He turned his head to look up at her, wincing as he did so. "Er...Depends on yer definition of 'okay'. I'd say it's a hard no to the Webster's Dictionary version. If it includes the need for pain killers and the presence of a demolished ballbag, then yeah. I'm peachy, Babe." Beetle snorted in an attempt to be humorous, yet grimacing from the obvious pain he was currently in.

Lydia shook her head, smirking due to his little remark. She stepped over to him, sitting beside him, as he hissed in pain and grunted during his miserable attempt to sit up, which ultimately resulted in defeat.

"Just stay down." Lydia rolled her eyes, laying back on the bed beside him, causing him to warily raise a brow in response.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Juice." Beetle smiled wickedly, waggling his eyebrows. "I don't mind if you don't. I may be in need of a full body cast, but I can assure ya I got ONE part that works _ just fine_..."

Lydia tried her best not to appear amused by his sheer aptitude for stupidity, though a little smile did curl on her lips in response. "Can it, BJ." she remarked, playfully cupping her hand over his mouth.

_Oh, fiesty! I like it... _

Lydia made sure to shoot him a look of non-amusement with his little telepathic bout of perviness. "Seriously, BJ. I want to talk to you."

She watched as he grunted unhappily, rolling his eyes and nodding in submission to her request. Feeling somewhat satisfied, Lydia moved her hand away. "Okay, Babe. Shoot." he grouched.

Though Beetlejuice was laying his idiot schtick on relatively thick, Lydia could feel his unease in the air around her. He was nervous, and he was trying his damndest not to show it. Though their little cruise story was questionable at best, Lydia knew that Adam, of all people, wouldn't protect her husband from her potential wrath should he go astray. The whole situation was confusing as hell and just as unnerving, but it was also a big relief. In all honesty, she didn't expect her husband to come out of it clean and more or less innocent. It was a shock to her system, given the plummeting direction their marriage was headed, and it was the best shock she could possibly feel at the moment. Finally, he'd given her a reason to believe in him again, even if it was just a small glimmer of hope. He'd actually come through for her.

Lydia grinned. "I guess you were right after all."

"Huh?" Beetle furrowed his brow, before realizing what the hell she was actually talking about. "Oh, er...Yeah." He began to grin devilishly. "I knew Adam an' ole' Chuckie couldn't hate my ass forever. What can I say? Muh' charisma is downright _contagious_!"

"Yep. That word pretty much sums you up." Lydia mused, pondering on that disturbing fact before proceeding any further.

"Alright. Don't push it Mrs. Juice." Beetle grunted, knudging her playfully and pulling her away from her thoughts.

She smiled warmly, unable to hide the relief she'd felt at that moment, while turning on her side to face him. "Thanks, BJ."

At that point his face formed an expression quite akin to the shock of having a surprise prostate exam. "Oh...Uh..." he muttered, his gruff voice falling a little softer on her ears. "Really?"

Lydia's smile grew wider, her emotions far past the point of being quelled. "Yeah. Really."

Those words brought nothing but astounded silence from her usually very, _very _opinionated spouse. Beetlejuice simply stared at her, narrowing his eyes as if he were wondering if she was tricking him in some way.

"Like, fer real?" he finally spat, wincing as he sat up in what appeared to be a mixture of confusion and awe.

"Yes, for real!" she chuckled, sitting up herself to meet his gaze. "You did good, BJ. I don't know _how_ you did it, but you're somehow changing their minds."

She watched as he slowly rubbed a large bruise on his arm, fidgeting and averting his eyes from her. "Yeah...I mean that's good'n all. I gotta' admit, it's a big fuckin' relief to have 'em actually tolerate my ass for once...but...uh..." he trailed off, staring at an empty beer bottle on the floor.

Lydia's face wrinkled in confusion, as she felt waves of uncertainty and a vague hint of sadness emanate from him. "But what?"

He sighed, rubbing his forehead before turning back to her, his eyes full of what seemed to be worry. "It ain't their minds I'm worried about changin'."

His words, along with a wall of his fearful emotions, fell upon her like a ton of bricks. It was as baffling as it was perturbing and shocking that he, of all people, was feeling so afraid of her reaction.

"Oh," was all she could bring herself to softly say. Honestly, Lydia had never believed he could truly feel the fear of losing her like she'd felt for him. To her, things had always felt a bit one-sided from day one. Deep down, Lydia had always had the best of intentions when it came her spouse. She'd always tried to consider him, to accept him, and to understand him, despite his _ colorful_ personality and completely unorthodox way of existing. There was a feeling that she'd tried to bury time and again, throwing psychological dirt on the pain and pounding it down with all her defense mechanisms. It was the feeling of never being truly loved or accepted enough to be considered in the way she'd considered others, especially when it came to BJ. Now, however, his complete guard had dropped, and she felt the same feeling she'd created inside herself dwelling inside of her presumable dirtbag of a husband. And for some reason, it changed things.

Silence echoed about the room more than any noise ever could. She briefly wandered away from her thoughts to glance at Beetle, who'd never seemed to take his green eyes off her. The way he was looking at her made her strangely feel _another _way. There was something so alive and human about the feeling radiating from him. The somberness in his features made her almost see something underneath, something hidden in plain sight. Her mouth gaped slightly in awe of what she was experiencing, until the warm tingling of her wedding band disracted her. Unconsciously, she fiddled with it.

"It's happening again, ain't it?" Beetlejuice sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair, as he glanced down at her hand.

"What's happening?" Lydia crinkled her brow, too lost in the moment to understand what he'd meant.

"The ring." he answered somberly, gesturing toward the wedding band she was currently twisting loosely around her finger. "It's doin' that weird, tingly shit again. Mine is too."

Lydia nodded slowly, swearing she'd seen a mysterious glimmer of light shine in the metal, reflecting back at her. "Yeah, it is. I wonder what the deal is?" she asked, feeling its grip loosen from around her finger.

"Dunno..." he shrugged, almost dejectedly. "I just uh...Hope you ain't given up on me..." Beetlejuice paused a moment, before worriedly glancing her way. "You haven't given up, have ya?" he asked quietly, causing her to swallow hard.

Many times lately, she'd wanted to throw her hands up in the air and just walk away from it all - all the fucked up history, the fighting, the lies, the possessiveness, the copious amounts of complete and unapologetic _idiocy_. However, as much as she'd had more than every right to leave, she didn't want to. Not now. Not after what she'd felt coming from him. It was a feeling so intense, that she was pretty sure she'd never really felt it in its entirety before. Sure, she'd felt love for him and from him, but not quite the _depth _of it all. Just like she'd initially assumed many years prior, he was just as guarded as she was, if not more so. There was someone entirely hidden under there that he just hadn't let her see. It was nothing short of astounding.

Lydia shook her head, hiding the depth of her awe. "No. I haven't, " she admitted, half in hope, half scared shitless to say such a thing.

Upon hearing her reply, a small smirk began to form knowingly on Beetle's grimy lips. "Good to know, Mrs. Juice." He seemed to exhale in relief, before touching her cheek. "I won't let ya down, Babe. Guess I'll let ya get back to yer folks while I try not to kick the bucket a second time. Don't want ya to miss out on yer Pop's and Adam's bullshit stories." he chuckled darkly, promptly placing his idiot mask back on for the time being and causing Lydia to grin.

"Are they really out there lying about what you guys did?" she snorted, amused by his claims.

"Tell ya what, Babe. You tell me what shit for brains stories those two concoct, and I'll tell ya what _really _happened." he grinned, licking his green teeth.

"Deal." she said, standing up and playfully holding out her hand to shake on it. Strangely, she hadn't felt that good about Beetle in years. It almost seemed like they were starting something anew. It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling, but she decided to just go with it.

"Deal, Mrs. Juice." Beetle grinned, winking, as she placed her hand in his. When her skin touched his own, it felt like a shockwave of electricity unlike anything she'd ever felt before poured throughout her veins. Nothing she'd felt between them had felt quite that intense before. Nothing.

He was trying. He was being sincere. He was doing his best. As she shook his hand, she made a decision to stop punishing him any further. She wasn't going to hold him back anymore. She began to whisper the name needed to complete her decision, and that choice she'd made was enough to cause Beetle's brow to furrow and his mouth to gape in confusion.

"Hey...hey, Babe! What're ya doin'?" he asked, suddenly, standing straight and with much ease. Static prickled in the air about them, as Lydia smiled, squeezing his hand.

"There you go. You deserve it." Lydia smiled, far too lost in her feelings to doubt anything in that moment.

"You sure?" Beetle raised a brow warily, appearing completely astounded.

Lydia nodded, knowing in her heart that it was, indeed, the right thing to do.

Beetle grinned wickedly, pulling her into him and planting a hard kiss on her lips. "Hell yeah! The B-man's back, baby! An' better than ever!" he cackled, juicing a cigar into his hand.

"They are _ your_ powers after all, BJ. Who am I to hold them over your head?" Lydia admitted, realizing that she'd done just that and feeling a bit ashamed by it.

"Thanks, Babe." he spoke, grinning so hard she thought he'd split in two. "Believe me, you won't regret this."


	41. When Sleeping Dogs Wake

Chapter 41: When Sleeping Dogs Wake

"It's completely finished! Do you like it?" Delia asked, wide-eyed, psychotic, and nearly foaming at the mouth as she revealed the true horror she'd created. In some sick twist of fate, her Lorena Bobbit-esque terror of a painting was somehow meant to be a gift.

"Er..." Beetle began, his lip involuntarily snarling in reaction to the terror-inducing abomination that sat before him. "Yeah. It's swell..." he forced out, nearly choking on his words as he stared at what could only be described as a limp, severed dick with legs. He glanced at Lydia, who appeared equally disturbed as she gazed at the finished product, eyes wide in horror.

_Great gift, ain't it, Babe? Maybe we should get her a little "thank you" present as a form of gratitude..._

Lydia looked him in the eyes, frowning due to his smart-assed little clairvoyant remark. _ You have to be joking. What would we get her? A card that says "Thanks for the Night Terrors, I don't need sleep anyway?" _

_ I was thinkin' more along the lines of a hockey mask and a chainsaw. _ Beetle smirked.

Lydia grinned, slightly nodding. _I can see that._

"BJ!" Delia barked, pulling his attention away from the psychic spousal communication he had going on. "Well? Are you going to take it?"

"Huh? Oh, sure, sure!" he humored her, taking the terror penis monster painting off of the easel and trying not to act like it was infected with the Bubonic Plague.

"It's great." Lydia chimed in, in her own veiled attempt at humoring her possible serial killer-slash-stepmother. "We'll keep it somewhere safe until we decide on the perfect spot to hang it."

"Oh, that won't be necessary, dear! I've already scoped out the perfect spot for it! A living space that will bring out its true _essence_! Follow me!" Delia exclaimed, yanking the painting out of Beetle's hands and leaving the guest bedroom with it in her grasp.

Beetlejuice glared at Lydia. "That shit's comin' off the wall as soon as this little family reunion is over." he growled under his breath.

"Ditto." Lydia nodded in return.

* * *

Beetle flicked a cuban cigar behind himself, where it vanished into thin air, as he juiced himself another beer into his hand. He smirked, watching the campfire blaze as he listened to Charles' recollection of their time on the Booze Cruise, minus all the dumb shit he'd done the entire time.

_What's so funny? _Lydia's voice chimed in his head. Apparently she'd noticed his amusement concerning her father's bullshitting.

_He's tellin' the PG version, Babe. It's just fuckin' hilarious how full of shit yer Pops is. _He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noting a small smirk of her own, as she stared at the giant marshmallow she was currently roasting in the flames.

_What's he leaving out, BJ? _Lydia's voice echoed in once more, as she seemed to be studying her father in amusement as he spoke.

_Oh, just the parts where we had to drag him back to the room cause he was wasted, the vomiting, the ogling and chatting up of young broads who wouldn't have a thing to do with his middle-aged ass... _Beetle took a swig of his beer, his eyes darting over to his other partner in crime. _Look at Adam over there about to shit his pants. Hahaha...He's scared shitless. Afraid Babs'll catch him in a lie. _

He watched as Lydia's eyes darted to Adam, causing her smirk to grow a bit wider. _ What did he do?_

_ Gambling, gettin' wasted with us. Talkin' shit, as per usual...Don't let Poindexter over there fool you. He's a gross fuckin' dude like the rest of us. Just a pussy-whipped one..._He trailed off, realizing that he wasn't painting a very pretty picture of her family, and that it could possibly diminish her trust. _Uh, but don't get the wrong idea. They didn't do anything TOO shady, Babe. We're ALL pussy-whipped little bitches when it comes to you gals. Yer Dad is a shiteater, but he wouldn't fool around on yer stepmom. _He corrected himself.

Surprisingly, Lydia stifled back a laugh, causing Barbara to cautiously side-eye them both as she pulled up her own marshmallow from the flames. _I know, BJ. Dad knows better. Delia's like a shark in the water detecting a drop of blood. _

_ Damn straight! An' I'm pretty sure Babs wouldn't be above strangulation if ole' Adam stepped out of line. I don't know how they've made it as far as they have with their dicks intact with those broads..._he mused, causing Lydia to snort out loud. He cleared his throat, trying his best not to burst into maniacal laughter himself.

"Yes? Something funny, dear?" Delia asked, scrunching her nose up and picking at her burnt marshmallow in disgust.

"Huh? No. Just burnt my finger. I was laughing at how clumsy I am. That's all." Lydia lied through her teeth, and somehow that evoked a great feeling of pride from Beetle. She could be slick when she wanted to.

_You almost got me in trouble, BJ. _Her voice entered his mind once more, as she shot him a look of amusement.

_You can thank me later, Babe. _He bounced his thought back to Lydia, while listening to Delia rattle on about parties her and loverboy had attended in New York during their living days. Babs and Adam seemed not one bit interested, and it was pretty damn hilarious to watch their failed attempts to appear like they were. As his mind wandered, he glanced to the other boys, watching them drink their beers. _Seriously, though. They wouldn't screw over their wives. As much as it pains me to say this shit, I think they really care about 'em, ya know? _

_ They do. _Lydia's voice softly chimed back, as she gazed at her family across the flames, the light twinkling in her eyes as he juiced another big, lit cigar in his hand and sucked on it, taking her in. It was good to see her so content for once. She seemed even more beautiful and full of life, if that was even possible. Of course, he'd keep that to himself. He didn't want to lay it on too thick and ruin their little moment of comradery. _I'm glad they have each other. I mean, I know they can be a big pain in the ass, but I don't know what I'd do without them. _Lydia admitted, poofing some gram crackers and chocolate around her roasted marshmallow and taking a bite.

_Pretty sure they feel the same way about you, Mrs. Juice. We all do. _He mentally spoke in true sincerety, causing her big, brown eyes to look into his own. She smiled, wiping bits of chocolate away from her lips, as he waggled his eyebrows and blew out his cigar smoke to form a heart in the air. Sure it was corny as hell, but she seemed to like it, and that was all that mattered.

"Hey, you two!" Adam's voice distracted his attempts to be all romantic and shit, sounding much akin to nails on a chalkboard in the midst of his moment of wooing his wife.

"Er...Problem?" Beetle shrugged, raising his brows in annoyed confusion.

"I said it's getting late. We're going to turn in for the night. Are you two coming or do you want us to leave the fire going?" Adam stood, folding his arms.

"You guys go ahead. Have a goodnight." Lydia interjected, causing Beetle to feel like his chances of a heated makeout session may have increased exponentially.

"Alright you two. Behave." Barbara shot him a glare, to which he forgot to hide his scowl.

"Wouldn't dream ah' doin' otherwise, Babs. The B-man is nuthin' but a complete gentleman. Right, Babe?" he turned to Lydia.

"Don't worry, Barbara. I'm on birth control." Lydia teased, causing Babs' face to burn bright red as the others headed toward the hut, unable to hear her smart mouth. God, he loved that woman.

"YOU STOP IT!" Barbara gasped, playfully swatting at Lydia, who began to laugh hysterically. It really was awesome seeing her so upbeat and lively again.

"See you in the morning. I love you!" She said, in between her bouts of laughter.

"Love you too." Barbara rolled her eyes, grinning, as she walked away, leaving the two of them alone.

"I think you've been around me too long, Babe." Beetle snorted, blowing smoke into the night air.

"Probably." Lydia replied, grinning as she zapped a beer into her own hand. "But I'm okay with it." she admitted.

"Hell yeah! That's mah girl!" he chuckled, placing his hand on her thigh.

"I'm just glad things are shaping up for once, you know?" she sighed happily, her big brown eyes staring a hole through his own.

"Me too, Babe. Me too. I'm happy fer ya. No shit. I really am happy that yer happy." he stated, almost in disbelief with his own words. Hell, he'd always been such a selfish bastard that the concept felt almost alien to him.

"I guess you're not such an asshole after all." Lydia teased, leaning into his side.

"Well then I've probably been around you too long, Babe. You made an asshat like me go soft...in uh...non-physical way, ifyaknowwhatimean..." he grinned deviously, snaking his arm around her waist. "But there are _other _things that aren't so soft about me, if ya get mah drift..." he waggled his brows, knowing it was a long shot. It was just that she was looking so damn hot and he was so very fucking deprived that he couldn't help himself.

Lydia leaned in and planted her soft lips on his own and he instantly pulled her in, ready to risk the dreaded blue balls just to attempt to get a quickie in with his wife. Of course, in the midst of their little makeout session, Lydia stopped him. "BJ, we can't. Not with my family around."

"Yeah, but Babe, they're in there." he stated softly, begging like a pathetic dickwad as he pointed to the hut. "And we're out here!"

"But there still..._around..._" Lydia curled her lip in distaste, backing away from him with an apologetic look on her face. Yep, blue balls it was. "Look, I promise I'll make it up to you when they leave." she said, standing up in what could only be summed up as leaving him high and dry.

Beetle stifled back his annoyance, knowing that was the smart thing to do. "Yeah, yer right, Babe." he admitted, not wanting to be a complete skeaze about it. Besides, he didn't need a swift kick to add to his already blue nuts. "But uh...Ya know I'm keepin' tabs on it..." he remarked as he stood, just to see what he could get away with, as he was prone to do just for the amusement of it.

"Sure. Keep tabs. Write it down." she shrugged, laughing, as she began backing up toward the hut.

"Oh, I am, Mrs. Juice. I gotta full copy ah' the Karma Sutra waitin' on yer ass." he leered, blowing more jagged smoke hearts into the night sky in what was hopefully the prelude to promised amounts of copious make up sex later.

"Fair enough." she grinned, stepping up and kissing him on the cheek. "I think I'm going to turn in myself. Are you coming?"

"Unfortunately, no." he smirked, causing her to roll her eyes, which was cute as hell.

"Seriously." Lydia frowned.

"I'll be in there in two shakes of a-" he began.

"BJ!" she interrupted.

"Yeah, Babe. I'm just gonna stay out here a minute and try to get to half mast before I walk in there. Wouldn't wanna scare anyone, ya know. I'll stay behind and clean this shit up while I wait." he finally quit his smartass-ness for a moment, figuring he either needed to toe the line or get bitch slapped as a result.

"Okay, BJ. I'll see you in a bit." Lydia smiled, patting his shoulder affectionately as she stepped out of his sight.

* * *

Beetlejuice sat by the fire, finishing his beer as he listened to the dark waves of the ocean lap at the sandy shore. Sure his balls were currently throbbing, but he was more than pleased that his wife seemed okay with him for once. He'd fucked up enough for a thousand lifetimes and given her enough reasons to stay away from his ass from the get-go, and yet her kind-hearted self was giving him yet another chance.

"Damn, she's too good..." he muttered to himself, dissolving his finished beer into thin air. Lydia was too good - way, way too good for him, and he knew it to the very core of his being. However, that made him all the more grateful to have her. Things were looking up again. It was like a dream come true: her folks were tolerating - nay - maybe even sort of liking his ass, Lydia had selflessly given him his kick-ass powers back, and they were still together, maybe even better than before!

Beetle stood, noting that his dong was now behaving, as he juiced their little campfire spot out of existence. He grinned happily to himself, thinking of how great things could possibly be now. He and Lydia could do so much together. He didn't need to hold her back or be a jealous shit anymore. He'd learned his lesson. He knew nothing but bullshit had come from being a degrading fucker, and he didn't want to be that anymore. For once, things were unbelievably positive. It was almost too good to be true, and that was because it was too good to be true. _All of it._

Just as Beetlejuice began to whistle smugly to himself, walking toward his home to join his beautiful wife and semi-tolerable family, his delusions were shattered in an instant. It was all due to a single, vengeful voice in the darkness.

"YOU! YOU LIED TO ME!"


	42. Necessary Evil

Chapter 42: Necessary Evil

Rose stomped out from the darkness around them, her face twisted in uncontrollable rage.

"No...No...Fuck no...Not now..." BJ gasped to himself, completely caught off-guard by Lydia's mother, as he backed up a step.

"HOW COULD YOU?! YOU KEPT HER AWAY FROM ME!" she seethed, stomping closer.

"Hey...C'mon now...D-don't make a scene here. Just calm down." Beetle tried to be civil in an attempt to do some immediate damage control.

"CALM DOWN?! YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN?! AFTER LYING TO ME ABOUT MY DAUGHTER?!" Rose continued to yell like a banshee, causing Beetle to start to lose his grip. He'd just gotten Lydia to begin to trust his ass again, and now her fucking MOTHER of all people was going to just step in out of nowhere and rip her away again, and possibly for good this time.

"Look now, you gotta calm the fuck down or-" he began, only for her to shove him back hard.

"NO! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR LYDIA?! HOW MANY NIGHTS I SPENT WANDERING THIS PLANE TO FIND HER?"

"I know, I know, but you gotta listen-" he threw up his hands in defense, as his insides wound up like a viper waiting to strike.

"HOW MANY TIMES I'VE CRIED MYSELF TO SLEEP OVER HER?!" she shouted, ignoring him as she shoved him harder than before, causing him to stumble back and grow increasingly angry, despite his best attempts to quell the urge to do something he'd later regret.

"Look, I know yer mad at me, an' rightfully so, but ya gotta understand!" he began, only for her to shove him a third, and final time. He staggered back, attempting to put a damper on his rage, when a light turned on inside the hut, causing his very frayed nerves to dwindle down further.

"UNDERSTAND? ME? NO, YOU UNDERSTAND!" she screamed in his face, stabbing his chest with her index finger.

He noticed a shadow within his home moving about, which was the final straw that broke the proverbial raging camel's back, snapping it more than he'd ever imagined.

"I...said...SHUT IT!" he yelled, and just as the front door had opened, Rose was sent barreling into a certain Sandworm-ridden dimension and swiftly out of Lydia's sight.

"Is everything okay?" Lydia peeked out from behind the front door, her face slightly traced with concern. "I thought I heard you yelling out here."

"Huh? Oh, no, Babe! I wasn't _yellin' _per se..." he spoke, fidgeting about, looking guilty as hell and being fully aware of that fact.

"Then just what _were _you doing?" her eyes narrowed in on him suspiciously.

"Er...Probably somethin' I shouldn't be?" he winced, instantly aware of the fact that he was too astounded and freaked out for his brain to function at even one-half capacity.

"Don't tell me you were doing _that..._" Lydia's lip curled in disgust_, _apparently believing that the thing he wasn't supposed to be doing involved a hand and some vasoline.

Feeling too dumbstruck to do anything but look like a giant pervert, he just went along with it. "Uh, guess ya caught me red-handed, Babe..." he said with the apparent likeness of a sedated zombie expiencing war flashbacks on his face.

Lydia sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Okay...At least your being honest, I guess. Just come to bed soon, you big, gross slimeball..." She rolled her eyes, before scolding him a final time. "And next time, don't be so loud. They might hear you."

And with that delightful little sentiment from his beloved, the door was closed, and with the fury of a thousand thoroughly pissed, possibly rabid wolves, a wild-eyed Beetlejuice zapped himself into a realm worse than Satan's asshole to finish some currently unfinished business.

* * *

Beetle appeared in a cloud of green smoke, dropping ankle deep in sand, watching Rose tremble as her eyes traced the large Sandworms approaching in the distance. When her eyes landed on Beetlejuice, her face twisted in animosity once more.

"WHERE DID YOU SEND ME, YOU BASTARD?!" she yelled above the deafening sandstorm blasting around the two of them.

"YEAH, YEAH! I GET IT! I KNOW THE DRILL. I'M AN ASSHOLE AND A SCUMBAG AND I SHOULDN'T KEEP YER DAUGHTER FROM SEEIN' YOU!" he shouted, glancing back at the rapidly approaching black and white fucker with not one, but two sets of teeth. He quickly looked back to Rose, who began to whimper and tremble again as she caught sight of the rapidly approaching creature.

"NOW YOU GOT TWO CHOICES. YOU EITHER LISTEN TO ME, AND LISTEN GOOD, OR YER ASS IS WORMFOOD! KAPEESH?" he stomped up to her to snarling, pointing his grimy finger in her face in an act of intimidation.

Rose's eyes grew wide as the ginormous fucker raised up beside them, ready to strike down, as the sandy terrain shook beneath the two of them. "FINE! PLEASE! JUST DON'T LET IT EAT ME!"

"GOOD. I KNEW YOU'D UNDERSTAND!" He grinned maliciously at Rose, as the Sandworm came down, only for him to form a steel cage around the two of them in the knick of time. The creature's mouth crashed and thrashed against it as soon as it manifested, causing the worm to whimper and howl in pain as it hit. "SERVES YA RIGHT, YOU UGLY FUCKER!" he cackled at it, taking much pleasure in its misfortune. Then he turned back to Rose. "NOW WE CAN TALK HERE, OR I CAN TAKE YA TO SOME NUETRAL GROUND. EITHER WAY, YOU'D BETTER LISTEN TO MY ASS!" Beetle warned.

"YOU ASSHOLE! TAKE ME TO LYDIA!" she screamed, starting her shit again and causing Beetle to shake his head, watching more Sandworms strike at the large, hopefully resilient cage he'd conjured up.

"ALRIGHT. HERE IT IS. LOOK, I'M IN A MESS AND I COULDN'T LET HER SEE YA. SHE'S FINE! BELIEVE ME! IF YOU'LL GIVE ME A CHANCE I'LL TELL YA WHY!" he shouted, attempting to stifle his anger and talk some sense into her.

"PLEASE, TAKE ME TO HER! PLEASE!" Lydia's hysterical mother began to beg. The tears forming in her eyes were causing him to feel like the pile of shit that he knew he ultimately was.

"LISTEN TO ME! I CAN'T! NOT NOW! YA GOTTA WAIT!" Beetle demanded, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"PLEASE! DON'T DO THIS TO ME! I HAVEN'T SEEN MY LITTLE GIRL IN SO LONG!" Rose began to sob uncontrollably, falling down in the cage and tugging at his pant leg while begging.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Beetle could feel himself snapping again, grabbing onto his wild hair and feeling damn near ready to pull it out of his mossy head. "YOU'LL GET TO SEE HER, JUST NOT NOW! NOT NOOOOW!" he screamed, yet the woman only crumbled to the bottom of the sandy cage, holding herself and sobbing.

"Fuck..." Beetle whimpered, hating the feeling of immense shame welling up in his chest. "I...I can't...You gotta go..." he muttered to himself, closing his eyes and searching for her home, which so happened to be in a rich-looking, swaggy neighborhood at the far north end of Paradise, which wasn't fair for shit, but he couldn't care less at that given moment. He sighed, holding a shaky hand up, as static began to spark around Rose.

"HEY! WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! NOOOO! PLEASE DON'T SEND ME AWAY! PLEASE!" she pleaded, clasping both hands together, and stabbing his conscience like a jagged, razor sharp dagger.

"I can't, Rose..." he said miserably, before she vanished in a cloud of white smoke. He tightly closed his eyes, landing her back in her own large, lavish bed in her mansion of a home, where a middle-aged, muscular Latino man laid snoring. She'd definitely upgraded from Chuckie's ass, but that was another thought for another time. He had to make sure she stayed there. Beetle clinched his fists, as a dim, purple dome of electricity surrounded her home like a fishbowl.

Beetle opened his eyes, gasping from the colossal amount of power needed to perform such a powerful feat. He staggered back, gripping the cage as the surrounding Sandworms made the desert ground thunder and roar. "I gotta get outta here..." he muttered, before locking eyes with one of the big bastards and grinning deviously. "BETCHA YER REEEEEAL HUNGRY, AIN'TCHA? WELL, NOT THIS TIME, FUCKFACES!" he shouted, flipping the biggest one the bird and cackling menacingly before disappearing in a cloud of green fog.

* * *

Beetle panted, opening the door to his hut and squinting in the darkness. He quickly snapped his fingers as the overhead light came on.

"Ack!" he shrieked, startled when he'd locked eyes with the monstrous, bloody dick pic that was Delia's wedding gift hanging on the opposite wall. "Fuck..." he panted harder, grabbing his head, as Lydia stepped out from the hallway.

"What happened?" her eyes grew wide, her face appearing concerned.

"Sorry, Babe. Forgot about Delia's _artwork_ over there..." he rasped, shaking his head and trying to gain his composure and hide his shaking hands.

"It is pretty disturbing, isn't it?" Lydia wrinkled up her nose in an adorable way, leading his insides to crawl with guilt. How could he do that to her? How could he go behind her back like that? "I've found that not looking directly at it helps. Kind of like not making direct eye contact with a wild animal." Lydia teased, motioning toward him. "Now come to bed with me, you Sleazebag..." she chuckled warmly.

Sleazebag. That was the understatement of a lifetime, and he knew it. "Sure, Babe. I'm comin'..."


	43. Now What?

Chapter 43: Now What?

Beetle sat upright in his bed, stretching and scratching his nether regions as he watched Lydia's peaceful face twist into an expression of distress while she slept. He sighed through his nose, turning his eyes to the faint traces of sunlight that broke through the nearby window, highlighting her delicate features. He knew for a fact that the distress she was feeling was traced back to Rose, who'd been trying her damndest to break through his barrier the whole week. He'd attempted to sneak back to her prison and reason with her, only to be met with about a hundred f-bombs and unpleasantries, followed by frantic pleading each time he tried.

At this point he was truly feeling near end of his rope. He figured he was a cunt hair short of being irredeemable, and he could feel Lydia's mother's energy wearing him down day by day. Due to that fact, he needed to get Lydia's folks to leave, and pronto.

As a matter of fact, that was what he'd intended on talking to his wife about as soon as she awakened from slumber. He stood up from the bed, juicing on a gaudy red pineapple-covered robe, along with a smoke in his hand. He puffed on it a moment, before Lydia's whimpers caused his hair to stand on end even more than it already had.

"Okay. That's enough of that shit..." he grumbled irritably to himself, knowing why Lydia's sleep was disturbed, and thoroughly wanting to NOT think about it at the current moment. No, he had _other _discussions in mind, and those included coercing his wife to shoo her relatives away. In order to do that, he'd made himself get up at the ass crack of dawn in an attempt to talk to her before the others came crawling like golems out of their holes to invade in their conversations. Sure things were fine and dandy now, but the fuckers had more than overstayed their welcome, and the fewer people around with Rose as his prisoner, the fewer people he had to avoid fucking up in front of.

Growing tired of waiting for her to wake up, he sat back down on the bed, thrusting his ass down hard and shaking it a bit from his weight. He grinned, sucking on his smoke and waiting for her to open her eyes, but she merely whimpered again and turned on her side.

"Ah...For fuck's sake, Babe, WAKE UP!" he snapped, slamming a clenched fist on the bed and causing her to shoot up like a rocket.

"WHAT?!" Lydia gasped, panting and wiping at her face.

"Good mornin', Sunshine!" Beetle grinned widely, hiding his intentions. "What's wrong? Bad dream?"

"It's nothing..." Lydia trailed off, her voice sounding a bit melancholy. She wasn't telling the truth, and he knew it. He could feel it in the air, along with her mother's god-awful presence in the back of his mind.

"Don't sound like nothin'." He raised a brow, blowing smoke about. "Sure ya don't wanna talk about it?"

"Yeah." Lydia answered, keeping things short as she juiced into some day clothes. "I'll be okay. I just need to take a walk or something. You know, clear my head."

"Perfecto, Babe! I'll go with ya!" Beetle stood, nonchalantly flicking his cigarette into thin air. That was the perfect opportunity for him to bring up running her folks off for the time being.

"That's okay, BJ. I think I'd rather go alone for now." she insisted, smiling at him with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Yeah, but-" he began, only to be interrupted by her lips pressing against his. Apparently, Lydia resorted to that strategy to get him to shut his trap.

After the brief kiss she squeezed his hand. "Just tell them I went for a short walk when they get up. I'll be back." Lydia stated, before briskly walking out and leaving him alone to dwell on his unwanted situation.

"Fuck!" he hissed, juicing his smoke back into his hand and falling miserably onto the bed with a thud.

* * *

Beetle shielded the blaring sun from his eyes as he pulled up his glasses, scanning about the beach for Lydia. "Where the fuck did ya go, Mrs. Juice?" he muttered to himself as he sat on guard in his beach chair. He shook his head in frustration, before sighing and dropping his shades back over his eyes.

At this rate, he'd never get the Deetz' and the Maitlands to leave. He needed Lydia now, and now wasn't coming any time soon, it seemed. "C'mon, Babe. I've been waitin' here for like three hours..." he whined into thin air, as the front door creaked open.

Barbara stepped out in a sundress and shades, frowning and pulling her glasses up upon not seeing her god-daughter sitting beside him. "Where's Lydia?"

It beat the hell out of him. Of course, he'd leave that fact to himself. "Oh, uh...She told me she was goin' fer a walk." he shrugged, juicing a beer into his hand to calm the intense awkwardness of being within fifty yards of Barbara.

Barbara hesitantly seated herself in the beach chair beside Beetle, causing him to instantly bristle inside. He nonchalantly looked away from her, hoping she'd just get the fuck away and let him brood in peace."Did she say when she was going to be back?" she inquired, _unfortunately._

Beetlejuice sighed, rolling his eyes before turning back to her, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Nah. Didn't say."

Barbara's brow furrowed. "Is she okay?"

"Oh, sure! A'course!" he feigned a smile, hoping she'd shut the hell up and quit playing private eye. It was bad enough having to breathe the same air as she did, let alone having to listen to her. Since the she-banshee had trained a Sandworm to devour his ass years ago, she had quite easily earned her spot as his least favorite member of Lydia's family. After Babs had decided it was a swell idea to tell Lydia about his past impromptu groping sessions concerning her, she'd quite easily held that spot as well. If anything, he'd tried to avoid her as much as possible, especially since she'd tried to turn Lydia away from him, but, unfortunately for him, his ass was cornered.

"She doesn't seem alright to me." Babs opened her mouth once more, giving Beetle the growing urge to guzzle the rest of his beer down and jump straight into the ocean.

Beetle glared into the shark infested waters before him, choosing his words carefully. "Somethin' wrong?" he played dumb, pretending he hadn't sensed his wife's ever-growing restlessness.

"Oh, please. Don't tell me you haven't noticed how distracted she's been." Barbara huffed, already using that all-too-familiar accusatory tone with him.

"Eh..." he began, knowing that it was too unwise to bullshit her any further. The hag already had it out for him. He didn't need to give her any more ammunition. "Yeah." he answered, defeatedly, drinking the rest of his beer in one go. God, that woman was insufferable.

"What did you do?" Barbara eyed him suspiciously.

Beetle exhaled hard, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to remain calm. "Nothin', Babs. Why would ya think somethin' like that?" he asked as calmly as he could muster.

"Why wouldn't I?" she scoffed, folding her arms. "Don't think you're off the hook so easy just because you've started behaving yourself. I know how you can be. I've experienced it _ first hand_." Barbara scowled, causing Beetle's skin to crawl with just what she was referencing.

Okay. That was enough of that shit. "Yeah, yeah. I know I was a creep, Babs. Whaddaya want me to do? Un-grab yer ass? I mean, if I could I would. _Believe me..._" he growled, feeling this conversation heading straight to hell where it more than likely crawled up from.

"_Was_ a creep?" Barbara shot him a look of pure skepticism.

"Yeah, Babs! Past tense of _is_, meaning no more, nada, zip, zilch, kapeesh?! I ain't that guy no more, whether ya believe my ass 'er not!" he fumed, realizing he was raising his voice again. It was fucking impossible to stay calm around that battle-axe!

"That's not what _she_ told me." Barbara muttered, lowering her voice to a hushed tone.

"Er, wut?" Beetle raised a brow, feeling both dumbfounded and immediately put on the spot. "Just what _ did _she tell you?"


	44. Hurt

Chapter 44: Hurt

Beetlejuice sucked on his green teeth, his left eye twitching, as Barbara finished divulging the information Lydia had previously told her in her formerly distraught state.

"Lydia didn't know how much longer she could stand it. I don't know if you know how close you really are to messing everything up for her. So, what are you doing that has her so upset?" Barbara rapid-fired her accusatory tone once more, while Beetle tried to channel his quickly depleting self-control.

Beetle paused, raising a brow and wondering if maybe Rose and her Latino stud could use some company. One little snap and Barbara would be screaming behind his magnificent prison, unable to screech into his ear about what a douche nozzle he was. However, he restrained himself, knowing full well that Lydia would stuff his balls down his throat for such an offense. Besides, he still didn't know what he was going to do concerning the two prisoners he'd already held captive, let alone adding another one.

Beetlejuice inhaled deeply, trying his best NOT to lash out and do something damnably stupid. "Babs, I know that stuff sounds really shitty an' all, but..."

"That's because it is." she stated coldly, glaring into his eyes.

"Well, er, yeah, but ya gotta let me explain." he bit his bottom lip, trying not to show his growing need to zap Babs' trap shut. "That broad was a skanky harpy I used to bang in muh' livin' days. She came back, tried to stir shit up, and I told her to go fuck herself. End of story."

"Then what about the way you were acting? Bossy! Jealous! Manipulative-" she began to fume, her voice growing louder and more hostile by the second.

"Hey, I'm workin' on it!" Beetle threw up his hands defensively, hoping to stop her before he lost his temper. "I ain't sayin' I was right. I'm a dirtbag an' I know it!" He then paused a moment, wondering why Babs even bothered to talk to him about this shit. "Why are you grillin' my ass, anyway? Don't ya WANT me to mess up so Lydia will hit the road? Now, all of a sudden, ya want to keep my ass on the straight an' narrow? Like, do ya want me to fail er not, 'cause this shit is confusing as hell!" he spat, finally letting his less-than-pleasant feelings show.

"What do you think?" Barbara glared hard. "Of course I'd rather her leave, but she's not going to, so I'm just warning you not to do anything stupid."

Yep, she still completely and utterly hated his ass. He shrugged it off, knowing the feeling was, indeed, quite mutual. "Yeah, well, I don't plan on it, Babs. I'd tell ya I care about her, but ya won't believe me anyway..." he grunted, deciding to juice another drink in his hand and chug it down. This shit was fucking torture at best. All Babs needed was a pitchfork and some horns and his descent to hell would be complete.

"I'm not denying that, as much as I'd love to..." she trailed off, as Beetle narrowed his eyes, caught off guard by her admission. "But love alone won't help her. You need to treat her better."

"I am! Look around ya! I do everything she wants! Fuck, Babs! Leave it to you to piss in my fuckin' cheerios!" he threw his hands up in exasperation.

Barbara grew quiet for a moment, before a somber expression fell on her features. "Then what about the women she said you were seeing at that bar?" she raised a brow, her voice thick with accusatory claims.

Beetlejuice instinctively froze, realizing she'd hit the only nerve that stretched back to his dirty little secret. It was the only thing he could truly NOT tell, for fear of losing Lydia for good. It wasn't like he'd wanted to keep Rose hostage or anything, it just happened due to some very shitty timing. So Beetle did the only thing he felt he could. He lied. "What?! Heh, please! That dumb broad made that up! I told ya she was a shit-stirrer, didn't I?"

He watched as Barbara studied his features for traces of lies, and just as he'd felt himself begin to buckle under her scrutinizing gaze, a beautiful, raven-haired angel came running up to them, saving him from the she-demon known as Barbara-fucking-Maitland.

"BJ! She's here!" Lydia stopped in front of him, panting and appearing shaken.

Beetle immediately stood up, half perplexed, half focusing on clenching his ass muscles enough not to shit himself. "Who's here, Babe?"

"Mom! I was out trying to spot her this morning, and I just ran into Kevin! He told me he met her just last week. She was looking for me, and he told her where I lived, but she's never shown up! I can't even feel her anymore! I-I'm scared something's wrong...things just don't _feel _right..." Lydia explained, her voice winded and jittery. Leave it to fucking Kevin to blow his cover. He'd been wondering just who had set Rose on her rampage against him. _It figured._

Beetle watched as Barbara stood, grabbing Lydia's hand and squeezing it. "She should've been here by now..." she stated, as she turned to Beetle with that accusatory glare on her features. He swallowed, knowing he'd better do something now or Babs would open her mouth and set Lydia on his trail of lies. It's not like they'd find Rose anyway, considering she was quite literally, held up at the moment. It was a shitty thing to do, but he couldn't risk losing his wife for good.

"Yer right, Babs." he interjected smoothly, watching her face fall slack in response to his unexpected helpfulness. "Tell ya what, Babe, I'll get the boys together and we'll search this place high an' low till we find her! I'll go get Adam an' yer Pops!"

Beetle studied Lydia's expression, as her worried features softened in response to his idea. She nodded rapidly, bringing a shaky hand up to her forehead in distress. "Thanks, BJ. Please find her..." she pleaded softly, appearing on the verge of tears and causing his black tar-pit of a heart to sink down to his ass-crack in despair. She was obviously in tremendous pain, and he'd caused it. Every damned bit of it, and now he was lying to keep her own mother away from her. The woman Lydia had waited for multiple lifetimes to meet again. The woman who she hadn't laid eyes on since she was a young girl.

Feeling downright despicable, Beetle nervously cleared his throat. "Don't thank me, Babe." he stated solemnly. "I'll go get the boys. You gals stay here. We'll let ya know when we find her."

Lydia sighed in what seemed to be relief, as she threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly in what seemed to be pure desperation. How stupid could he have been? Did he really think Rose wouldn't be that important to his wife? "I love you, BJ." Lydia whispered to him, wiping at her face.

He could barely bring himself to even say it. She looked just as pained and defeated as Rose had before he'd sent her away. At that point, the only thing keeping him in his lies was the fact that Lydia would be gone forever should he be found out.

"Love you too, Babe." he finally spoke, swallowing hard.


	45. When the Heart Shatters

Chapter 45: When the Heart Shatters

Lydia tossed and turned in bed, beads of sweat gathering on her forehead. Beetle hadn't returned with the others, and it was well into the night. Truthfully, she hadn't expected to feel such overwhelming emotions concerning her mother. Despite being basically estranged from Rose for years, every warm moment, every shining memory, and every heartbreak that she'd ever come to feel for Rose had come rushing back in an instant. And now, much in line with her worst fears, that connection was brutally severed for some unknown reason. Her mother was within mere miles of her, only to vanish into thin air. It was breaking Lydia's heart all over again, just like it had when Rose had been ripped from her former life due to her premature and unexpected death.

The pain was so evident in her features, that Barbara, and surprisingly even Delia had stayed by her side, well into the night until Barbara had suggested for her to get some well-needed rest. Tears streamed down Lydia's face in the night, as she tried wiping away her despair. She'd come to realize that the worst thing about deeply loving someone was losing them, and after such a long time of intense worry and heartache concerning possibly losing her husband, she was doomed to feel that searing pain when it came to Rose. After dealing so long with the possible deterioration of her marriage, Lydia's defenses were already worn down, and now not even BJ's turn around could stop her from intensely sobbing into her pillow.

Desperation grew inside her like a virus, and before she knew it, she was slipping out of bed, wiping her tears away and composing herself. Perhaps she could ease her mind by searching for her mother as well. Four people looking for Rose were better than three, and she wasn't going to get any peace of mind anyway, so she figured what the hell?

Lydia materialized herself into some clothing and quietly slipped out of her bedroom. She sighed to herself in relief, noting that Barbara and Delia had apparently turned in for the night as well. Slipping out the front door, Lydia gazed at the night sky, hoping against hope that Rose would turn up.

* * *

"The Booty Hole? Really?" Lydia sighed, rolling her eyes as she stepped up to the building, eyeing the ridiculous sign. That place had Beetlejuice written all over it. Her mother, not so much, but she figured Rose could have stopped in just to try and find her at some point. She'd tried every stop along the way to no avail, so she figured this place was no exception.

Lydia walked up to the wooden door, already getting a whiff of the smoke and alcohol reeking out from behind it. She braced herself, pushing the door open to eye a relatively un-gross tavern full of busty, pirate-themed waitresses. Yep. Definitely Beetlejuice. Maybe a cleaned up version, but still Beetlejuice, she thought to herself, shaking her head, as one of the waitresses stepped up to Lydia, adjusting her cleavage along the way. "Welcome, hon. Right this way." the lady began, before Lydia herself interjected.

"Thanks, but that won't be necessary. I'm just looking for someone." Lydia said politely, as the waitress raised a brow.

"Oh, okay, hon. Who ya lookin' for?" she smiled, placing her hands on her hips and smacking her gum.

"Her name is Rose Clairfield. She used to be a Deetz...Uh, she's my mother. She's been looking for me, and I need to find her. It's possible she's stopped by here at some point in the last day or so." Lydia explained, fidgeting from her frayed nerves.

The lady thought hard, narrowing her eyes on Lydia as she blew a bubble, popping it with her teeth. "She look like you?"

"Yeah. A lot." Lydia nodded rapidly, hoping the waitress would come through for her.

"I seen her, but it's been way longer than a couple of days ago, hon. She was at that table talking to-" the waitress said, only to be cut off.

"You mean she was around here THAT long ago?" Lydia's mouth gaped open slightly, taken aback by that new information. It just didn't make any sense. Why hadn't the two of them come into contact by now? "You said she was talking to someone?"

"Yeah, some older-" the waitress tried answering again, only for a strangely familiar voice to interrupt the conversation.

"Well, well, well...If it isn't Mrs. LaRou herself!" Lydia spun about to lock eyes with the very woman that had accused Beetlejuice of creeping around behind her back.

"Uh..." Lydia began, only for the woman to take her by the arm and begin to guide her back to a table.

"She's with me!" she called back to the waitress, before locking eyes with Lydia again. "So glad we ran into each other..." she grinned slyly.

* * *

"This feels useless." Adam sighed, pulling his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We've been searching for Rose all day. I'm not even sure what she looks like." he placed his glasses back on, staring at the moonlit ocean.

"You can't miss her." Chuck said, taking a drink of his beer and leaning against a palm tree. "Lydia is the spitting image of her."

"Yup. Now let's get a move on, boys. We can't find her if we're standin' here with our dicks in the sand." Beetle urged them on, knowing damn well they wouldn't find her. However, he had to be convincing in order to shield his own ass from any particularly unpalatable consequences of being found out.

"Wait, how would you know what she looks like?" Adam stretched, noticing Beetle's little slip up in agreeing with Chuck. _Fuck._

"I don't have to! It don't take a rocket scientist to see she didn't get her looks from the Chuckster." Beetle sniggered, internally patting himself on the back for his sharp little comeback.

"I guess you do have a point." Adam sighed, rubbing his hands together.

"I'm right here." Chuck frowned, before downing his beer and tossing the bottle to the side.

"You uh, think it's a good idea to get wasted right now, Pops?" Beetle asked, really laying his concerned son-in-law act on thick. He was practically looking like a saint at the moment, and he knew it. It was almost enough to make him not thoroughly despise himself inside. Almost.

"Yep." Charles nodded nervously, materializing another drink in his hand. "I'm going to need it if I have to look at her again."

"I take it you two didn't separate on the best terms." Adam stated, folding his arms and studying Chuck.

Chuckie donned a fake smile, apparently hiding the fact that he was probably shitting himself right about now. He pointed to Adam. "That would be correct."

Beetlejuice suppressed a small smirk that had tried to crawl onto his lips. He was playing the good guy part to a tee, they ultimately wouldn't find Rose, and there was a bit of unresolved conflict on Chuckie's part to distract and dilute the situation a bit. This was too easy! "Alright boys, let's roll! Rose, we're comin' for ya!" he rubbed his hands together, grinning in satisfaction, as he led them further up the shoreline.

* * *

"Please. Have a seat, dear." the lady insisted, gesturing across from her. Lydia hesitantly seated herself, eyeing the woman's freckled face, who grinned widely at her from across the table. "Look at ya...Lookin' reeeaaal pretty in that little sundress and flip-flops. Ya got that sweet, innocent thing about ya." she said, looking over Lydia and making her feel very uneasy. "You ain't his type at all..." she shook her head, seeming puzzled.

"Excuse me?" Lydia asked, feeling perplexed. Just what did this woman want with her?

"Oh, look at my bad manners..." she grinned, as a waitress came up to them.

"The usual, Miss Annie?" the waitress asked, as the lady nodded, holding up two fingers.

"Sorry, she beat me to it, but my name's Annie. Annie Weschire." she held out her hand from across the table, introducing herself.

"Oh. I-I'm Lydia." she awkwardly shook the lady's hand, feeling abnormally queasy inside. According to her husband, Annie was a troublemaker, and dealing with the likes of her was questionable at best. Besides, her mother was her number one priority. However, this situation was so bizarre that Lydia couldn't bring herself to walk away from it.

"Lydia LaRou, I presume." Annie raised a brow, as the waitress set two beers on the table.

"Lydia Juice, but yeah...I guess _technically _LaRou." Lydia shrugged, scooting her mug of beer over to herself.

"Juice? Why Juice?" Annie wrinkled her forehead in confusion.

"Oh, it's a long story, but he doesn't go by that name anymore. He's...uh..._cursed_. I go by Juice now because of it." Lydia explained in as few words as she could muster. The last thing she wanted to tell this woman was her own personal twisted love story with one of her exes.

"Ooooh. That explains the whole gross corpse thing. I thought it was a little much, even for bein' dead an' all. I still recognized him, though, after all these years..." she drifted off, her eyes staring at nothing in perhaps remembrance of who Beetlejuice used to be. "Can't forget those eyes, ya know." Annie laughed with a smirk, causing Lydia to grow increasingly uncomfortable.

"Look...Thanks for the beer and all, but I really need to be going." Lydia said, standing up in an effort to avoid hearing anything else about Beetle's past. It was the last thing she needed right now, given Rose's disappearance and how it had already placed her on the edge of a breakdown.

"Wait!" Annie gasped, grabbing Lydia's forearm and appearing desperate for some unknown reason. "Don't go so fast! We just started!"

Lydia sighed, swallowing back her emotions, as the insanity of the situation somehow intrigued her enough to stay. "Okay. What is it? Why do you want to talk to me?" she asked in earnest, cutting right to the point.

"Glad you asked." Annie smiled smugly, taking a drink from her mug. "You seem like a nice girl. What're ya doin' with Pigsticker?"

Lydia stifled that sinking feeling inside herself. "We've been together a long time now. He's a changed guy. He's not who he used to be."

"What? An asshole?" Annie chuckled.

"Well, yeah." Lydia nodded, smirking at how true that was. However, she didn't want to get too chummy with this woman, so she quickly hid her emotions again. Of course, as was perhaps both one of her greatest traits and flaws, she felt the urge to hear the woman out. "He's gotten better over time."

"I have to say, that's real hard to believe, Sweetie." Annie twirled at a brunette lock, her nose scrunching up in disdain. "I mean, given what I know about him, anyway."

And there it was - the line that hooked Lydia into actually asking about him, which she realized instantly was possibly a huge mistake. However, given the shaky ground she and BJ had already been on, she couldn't stifle back the urge to dig deeper. "What do you know?" Lydia asked, her finger nervously circling the rim of her mug.

"He was engaged before. Pigsticker was supposed to marry my sister." Annie admitted, as Lydia's brows raised in surprise. "Did he tell ya that?"

"No." Lydia answered softly, before taking another large gulp of beer to shield her from the emotions bubbling up inside of her.

"Hah! Doesn't surprise me in the least!" Annie scoffed.

"What happened?" Lydia asked, now falling deeper into the abyss of things BJ had possibly been hiding from her.

"He lied to her. Told her he loved her, she was the one, all that crap. Then he got our father to agree to arrange the wedding, while he was bangin' me on the side, mind you." Annie glared, her anger with Beetle still very evident. "Once LaRou got the dowry, he was nowhere to be found. Stood her up on her wedding day and flew the coupe! I know I weren't no angel in the matter, but Ben was sleepin' around with every loose woman he could get his hands on. It didn't make any difference if I did get with him a time or two. Besides, I'd planned on stoppin' once he'd married my sister. A'course, he never did."

"Ben?" Lydia paused.

"Yep. Benjamen James LaRou. We all called him Picksticker, a'course, due to-" Annie explained, only for Lydia to interrupt.

"Stabbing a pig in the face with a pitchfork?" she asked, watching Annie grin widely.

"Seems like he did tell ya a little somethin', after all. He tell ya about me?" Annie asked, fiddling with the lace around her cleavage.

Lydia nodded awkwardly. "Yeah. He told me a long time ago, before we were ever in Paradise together. Is it true that you left him for his father?"

Annie frowned upon hearing Lydia's question. "Yeah. His father was a shitbag, but he was no worse than Ben was. Besides, I was only gettin' back at him because I was heartbroken."

Lydia watched the condensation drip down her icy mug, in partial disbelief over even humoring this woman. Still, she knew very well how her husband had been all those years, and that meant that there was always another, usually more damning, side to every story he told. "What did he do?"

"He never wanted to be with me. I was crazy over him, even if he was a big, dumb jerk. Yeah, we were both unapologetic whores, but I would've stopped it all for him. I tried to get him to be with me and stop all his womanizin', but it never worked. I know I should've known better, but he was a smooth talker who could promise ya the world...Handsome, even, in his own drunken, scruffy, grungy kinda' way...I poured my heart out to him, an' he turned around and tried to marry my sister. Fuckin' asshole..." she muttered unhappily, and though Lydia knew she should have felt pretty disgusted by that point, she felt more pity than anything. BJ really had been an asshole his whole life. Ironically, that was the _one_ thing he hadn't lied to her about.

Against her better judgement, much as she was apt to do, Lydia felt the urge to right the situation in some way, even if it involved a woman just as raunchy as her husband. Better than anyone, Lydia knew the heaviness of a broken heart. It was the same wave of pain she'd felt time and again in her own life, and now she was feeling it immensely when it came to her own mother. "Look...I can't believe I'm saying this, but...I'm sorry he did that to you _and _your sister. You didn't deserve that."

Lydia watched as traces of shock formed on Annie's features. "_You're_ sorry? Why?! I tried to start shit with you. Why are you apologizin' to me?"

"Honestly, I don't know..." Lydia shook her head, feeling more than crazy for being so forgiving to a woman who tried to bribe her own husband into sex. "I guess it just seems like the right thing to do...for some god awful reason..." she admitted, quickly guzzling the rest of her beer and slamming the mug down as the waitress came up to their table. "Another round, please." Lydia quickly said, as the woman nodded, taking their empty mugs away.

"I'll be damned." Annie spoke in a hushed voice, shaking her head in what seemed to be disbelief. "You really ain't his type, hon. Who are you, really? Mother Tereasa or somethin'?" she snorted, slapping the table and causing Lydia to flinch.

"Not hardly." Lydia shook her head, sighing. "Saintly, no. Crazy? Probably." Lydia smirked, watching Annie's features soften.

"Guess we gotta be to fall for such crazy men, right?" Annie chuckled, as the waitress brought two more drinks. "Don't worry, though. I don't love him anymore. I guess you could say I've been holding a grudge for what he did. I'd probably still be with his father if we hadn't gotten separated in the afterlife. He wasn't so bad as Ben makes him out to be. In fact, he treated me like a queen until the day he kicked the bucket. I still miss that old bastard. I guess all this was more to get back at him than anything. I certainly didn't expect you to be so...so..._nice._"

Lydia sighed through her nose, drinking down her urge to simultaneously roll her eyes and vomit. Annie was literally the female version of Beetlejuice, and it was fucking weird. "Yeah, I've heard that a few times before." Did she really have to be reminded of how much of a pushover she was? Apparently.

"Look, I wanted to say this to piss you off, but now...not so much." Annie spoke, appearing a bit apologetic. "I thought you were some young bitch that thought your shit didn't stink. Not some nice, girl next door, take home to momma type. Whatever happened, you just seem like you got tangled up with a bad guy along the way. Maybe you're _too_ nice, hon."

Lydia fidgeted about, taking another drink and feeling increasingly uncomfortable. That sinking feeling was growing by the second, as she noted the pity forming in Annie's eyes. "Yeah, I get that a lot, too. So did he sleep with you that night?" she asked, coming right out and bracing herself for the worst.

"No. He didn't take the bait. Not from _me_, anyway. Go figure." Annie muttered defeatedly, taking a drink of her own.

Lydia paused, slowly setting her mug down. "What do you mean by that?"

"I wasn't lyin' about him talkin' to other women. Well, one woman. A brunette. Long hair...Didn't see the face though. She was sittin' with her back to me. I watched 'em until I left with an old friend..._with benefits._" Annie sniggered, before continuing. "I don't know where they went later. I just know it wasn't you, hon. I don't know what he's been tellin' you, but by the look on your face, it probably ain't the truth...I'm sorry, hon. Really." Annie sighed, finishing her beer. "I just think you should know who he _really _is. Besides, a nice, pretty girl like you could get a better guy in a heartbeat."

Lydia sat there, stunned, staring into Annie's eyes, while feeling her throat tighten. "A-are you sure? Do you have proof, or, or-"

"I wasn't the only one who saw, hon. Sally! Come here!" Annie motioned another, older waitress over. "You remember that dead lookin' guy with the real wild hair in here you waited on a while back?"

"Yep. How could I forget him?" the woman laughed, placing a hand on her hip.

"Remember that brunette he was with?" Annie asked, folding her arms and appearing confident of her accusations.

"Sure do. I don't know how _any _woman would want to talk to him. Don't know what happened to those two. Haven't seen 'em since." The waitress confirmed Lydia's worst nightmare, causing her eyes to well up against her will.

Immediately feeling like she was falling into some sort of black abyss, Lydia began to wipe furiously at her eyes, causing the clueless waitress to appear concerned. "What's wrong, dear?"

"I-I'm sorry. I have to leave." Lydia said softly, as tears began to pour uncontrollably down her face. "Here." she said, laying some money down on the table and turning to walk away.

"No! No, wait, hon!" Annie grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her back. "Look, you don't need to leave like this! You need to calm down first. Look, I'll beat the dope up myself if I have to. It's about time he got his comeuppance, anyway." she said, her formerly mischief-filled eyes full of nothing but sympathy, along with the waitress, and now, given the fact that Lydia was the current spectacle, the whole bar. "What were you doin' in a place like this, anyway?" Annie asked, holding Lydia by the arms in a miserable attempt to calm her down.

"I don't go to bars. I-I wanted to find my mother..." she sobbed, her heart breaking as she spoke. "She's missing, and I can't find her! She died when I was just a girl...I...I haven't seen her since...and...I-I can't believe...he did this...to...to..." Lydia wailed, her knees buckling as she fell into the nearest person's arms available, which was, strangely enough, Annie.


	46. That Feeling

Chapter 46: That Feeling...

"Okay...Almost there..." Annie's voice entered Lydia's ears, barely overpowering the sound of her own muffled sobs. She nodded slowly, leaning on a woman she barely even knew, her vision blurred by tears.

By the time the two of them had made it to the door, Lydia fell to her knees. Hysterical didn't even begin to describe how she felt. There was no word for it. All she could think about was that warm, deep feeling that she'd felt from her husband not so long ago. Was that a lie too? Was it all just one, big, neverending lie? Had she really been so stupid as not to see what had been right in front of her all along?

"Shhh...shhh...Okay." Annie hushed her softly, pulling her up by the hand. "Is someone in here that you can be around, or do you need me to stay?" she asked, her compassion reaching levels Lydia wouldn't have believed earlier. Then again, Lydia instantly realized that she looked more than pathetic at the moment, so that would easily induce sympathy in most people.

"Yeah...Bar...Barbara..." Lydia rasped, holding her quivering lips in an attempt to stifle her sobs and not plunge further into unabashed pitifulness.

"Okay." Annie nodded, holding her hand as she knocked loudly on the door of the hut.

Lydia used her free hand to hold her waist, her head now throbbing and her stomach filled with the sensation of overwhelming nausea. "I-I'm sorry..." she whispered to Annie, feeling utterly ashamed of herself for appearing so woeful, while simultaneously being unable to hold her wretched misery inside.

"It's okay, hon. Don't be sorry. He's an asshole. You didn't do anything wrong..." Annie tried comforting her, as the door creaked open.

Barbara stood there, her color draining instantly upon seeing Lydia's current state. "Lydia, what happened?! Why are you out with this woman?" she gasped, turning to Annie.

"She was lookin' for her mother. I'm a..._friend_..." Annie replied sheepishly before turning away. "I'll be where ya found me if ya need an ear, Doll." she spoke softly to Lydia, before walking away.

Both unexpectedly and without any voluntary thought, Lydia fell into Barbara's arms, still sobbing and unable to control herself.

"Lydia, what's wrong?! You're scaring me!" Barbara began to panic, as Lydia felt herself being led into the hut. "Delia! Delia! Come here!" she yelled loudly, the fear evident in her voice.

"You w-were right...all along..." Lydia wailed. "I'm so stupid!"

Suddenly, Delia came bursting into the room. "Good grief, what the hell is going on in here?!" she barked angrily, before taking one look at Lydia and rushing over to her. "What's the matter? What happened?" she asked, her eyes wide and full of fear.

"Barbara... Everything I told you...It's true. It's all true. He's been lying to me the whole time..." Lydia whimpered, gasping and choking on her own tears. This didn't feel real. None of it. Maybe it was all a horrible nightmare. Maybe she'd wake up any minute.

"What's she talking about?!" Delia snapped, moving Lydia's hair away from her face as she turned to look into Barbara's eyes.

"It's that pathetic, no account, miserable excuse for a husband! I'll tell you all about it just as soon as I do this." Barbara spat, materializing a pen and a notepad into her hand and scribbling something on it. "We're getting out of here. NOW!" Barbara demanded, causing Lydia to feel the reality of it all crash down on her. It was over. No, it never existed in the first place. He was nothing more than a criminally insane con man with one more lie to add to his neverending string of bargains and deals. She'd been his bottom line. His payment. His deal. That was it. "Here, Delia. Place this on my bed in the guest room. Adam will find it when they get back. Now, let's get out of here!" she exclaimed, before turning and cupping Lydia's face in her hands. "We're taking you home, okay?"

"Okay." Lydia whispered, closing her eyes tightly and letting the giant wave of pain roll over her like a storm.

* * *

"I don't know where she's at, compadres. You guys wanna keep searchin'?" Beetlejuice raised a brow, playing innocent and feeling pretty damned good about his ability to do so.

Adam sighed, watching all the beachgoers gathered at the shoreline. "I don't know what to do, honestly. We've been at this all night and all day. She's not turning up anywhere. I don't even know if we're looking in the right place."

"Maybe we should just contact the Powers that Be and let them handle it. It may take a while to get a response, but at least it's_ something_." Charles said, appearing weary as he walked toward a random beach chair and plunked into it.

Beetle looked to Adam, shrugging. "Whaddaya think, pal?" he asked, purposely directing all the responsibility onto another family member, and NOT himself.

"I hate to admit it, but I think Charles is right. Paradise is a humongous place. We may never find her without the help of the authorities at this point, especially if she's a moving target. We could run in circles forever chasing her." Adam wiped a hand down his exhausted features.

Now it was time to look helpful again. "Maybe I could get a hold of 'em?" Beetle suggested innocently, knowing this was the part he needed to take charge of. He didn't want the feds on his case again. He'd simply _pretend_ to contact the authorities. They'd be none the wiser, and he'd not get castrated by his wife.

Adam nodded. "Yeah, I'm afraid that's what you'll have to do."

"Roger that." Beetle nodded, stuffing his hands down in his pockets and stepping away from Adam, only to catch an all-too-familiar face speaking to Charles from a distance. _Two of them_, to be precise.

"What the fuck?" Beetlejuice mumbled to himself, watching Charles speaking to none other than Lydia's ex-fiance and the downgrade he'd left her for. Really?_ Those_ assholes had to show up?

"Hey, isn't that Eugene? What the hell is he doing talking to Charles?" Adam scowled, apparently not happy to see that needle dick either. He stepped over to them, as Beetle scrambled in behind.

"Look, I just want you to know it was an accident." Eugene shrugged, stroking that freaking douche patch on his chin. Was there anything about that guy that didn't ooze pretentious prick-ness? Nope. Beetle cleared his throat, clearing out all the potential obscenities he felt the urge to spew at the fucker.

Beetle looked on as Charles scowled. "It wouldn't have happened if it weren't for_ you_." he spoke sharply, clinching his fists. Beetlejuice had to admit, Charles did grow a set when it counted. Of course, if all that horseshit hadn't happened, he may not have lucked out and landed Lydia, but all the same, he hated what's-his-face too.

At that moment, Adam piped in as well. "I can't believe you did that to our little girl!"

"And just who are you?" Eugene eyed Adam from head to toe, appearing completely baffled.

"What do you mean _who am I_?" Adam crossed his arms, questioning him indignantly.

Beetle sniggered, leaning toward Adam. "Heya...You were a dead guy while this fucker was alive. Deceased. Expired. Dearly departed." he said, as Adam's face twisted in confusion upon his words. Beetle snorted at Adam's cluelessness. To be such a nerd, the guy was pretty slow at times. "Uh...really fuckin' invisible. Remember?" he held out his hands, watching that dim little lightbulb in Adam's head finally flicker on.

"Oh, well, _yeah_..." Adam began, realizing his mistake, before turning back to Lydia's ex. "Still yet, it was one hell of an awful thing to leave Lydia the way you did!"

"C'mon, Eugene. Get away from these assholes!" His blonde bimbo yanked at his arm, trying to force him to leave, which was fucking hilarious. As always, it was nice to see those two severely inconvenienced in any way, shape, or form. Beetle had to admit, the suffering just warmed his heart.

"I didn't do anything, Candy! Charles came up to ME talking shit!" Eugene huffed, pulling his arm back away from her.

Beetle fought back the urge to curl his lips into a diabolical smile. It was all too perfect. First, he'd shut Barbara up in her tracks, then he'd successfully appeared to be a much, much better guy than he actually was, and now, Adam and Chuckie boy had another asshole to direct their rage toward. It was like winning the lottery while having tantric sex on a two ton bar of gold, as in, shit like that didn't happen. Proving even more glorious, was the fact that Rose could remain hidden away from their oblivious asses long enough to calm down. Then, once she finally cooled her shit, Beetle could snake his way into a bargain with her, a.k.a. trade her unwavering silence concerning her hostage situation in return for being freed and seeing her daughter for the rest of eternity. Easy-peasy, right? He'd no longer be a raging scumbag and Lydia could finally live the life she'd dreamed of. Most of all, he'd have very little reason to loathe himself like he currently was trying NOT to. Complete win-win!

"Just stay the hell away from my daughter..." Charles pointed his finger in Eugene's face.

"Heh. Fucker ain't comin' within a hundred miles of Lydia. She's kinda' taken, Eula." Beetle snorted, winking at his blow up doll wannabe just to piss them both off.

"It's _Eugene, _you psychotic asshole! And why do you care if she's married? You're obviously not with her, anyway." the smarmy little shit scoffed, while simultaneously making Beetle wonder what the fuck he was on to say such a thing.

"Hehe. What the fuck're you talkin' about, Dipshit?" he raised a brow, pulling a smoke out of his pocket and taking a drag like he didn't give a fuck, because, well, he didn't. "Pretty sure I'd know if she's mah wife." he snorted, holding his hand up and nearly sticking his wedding band in the fucker's face just to rub it in that he was married to Lydia, and limp dick was, indeed, not.

"Then who was that other chick you were out here with? The one you were walking up the beach with that night? That wasn't Lydia." he crossed his arms defiantly, as Beetle froze, completely dumbfounded by those words.

"What is he talking about?" Adam narrowed his eyes in on Beetle, as Charles looked him up and down, wide-eyed and in shock.

"I dunno." Beetle shrugged, trying his best to remain calm, despite feeling like he'd piss himself at any given moment. The fucker had more than likely spotted his ass while he was trying to get rid of Rose. "He's probably makin' up shit to rile us up. Besides, I kinda held him and discount Barbie there hostage once. It's no wonder he's tryin' to fuck with me."

"Kind of?" Eugene huffed, rubbing his head in exasperation. "You locked us in cages and threatened to drop us into Saturn! You forced me to play...ugh...eighties hair band music to a frat party! That's not 'kind of'!" he fumed, apparently holding onto a _teensy_ bit of resentment concerning Beetle's past transgressions, which was not surprising in the least. He then turned back to Charles, who still stood in shock. "Either way, it's not ME you need to be worried about. This MANIAC was out with another chick, and we saw it. He made no secret of it. The beach was still littered with people! If anything, Charles, you need to chew HIS ass out! I'm sorry I ran over her, but it was an accident, dude! Get over it! It's over! I'm outta here!" he yelled, stomping away as Beetle was left standing there, speechless.

"Just what was that?" Adam scowled, stepping up to Beetle.

"Oh, c'mon pal! Are ya really gonna believe a puny little hipster who has a personal vendetta against me anyway?" Beetle held up his hands, backing away.

"So he's lying, right?" Charles muttered, his face still slack.

"A'course he is! He's full of shit! He's just tryin' to get at my ass..." Beetle waved it all away dismissively, internally hoping he wouldn't have ten strokes and an aneurysm in the process. "C'mon, let's get back so we can get to the REAL matter at hand, fellas! Lydia needs her mom, amirite?"

"I guess that is what we set out to do here..." Adam replied, eyeing him warily, as Chuck nodded, opting to stay silent. Beetle could feel his undead heart race with fear. He just needed a little more time, and he could pull everything off. Then, nobody would end up hurt, and he'd have Lydia, and she'd be happy, and no one would have to know what a massive, unforgivable dickhole he'd been.

"Good. Shall we, boys?" Beetle grinned, motioning them along, as they hesitantly followed a bit behind him. He could feel the atmosphere shift around him, while something even darker began to loom in the corner of his mind. It was like a pulsating, sinking feeling inside himself, and it was growing larger by the second. It was a sensation akin to intense, unending despair. He swallowed back the feeling, regardless. "Just keep it together a little longer..." he mumbled to himself under his breath, hoping for the best, but fearing that the worst was yet to come.


	47. The Boat

Chapter 47: The Boat

"Ah-herm!" Beetlejuice cleared his throat uncomfortably, looking at the two silent family members behind him as he approached his front door. As a matter of fact, the whole trek home had been completely silent, which was probably not a good indicator of his standing in Adam and Chuckie's eyes. "We're home, boys. Guess I'll go break the news to the wifey."

"Yeah. Guess so." Adam nodded, looking off in the distance as if he was purposely avoiding eye contact with Beetle. Charles simply stared at his feet, with his hands in his pockets.

"Er, yeah..." Beetle pushed the door open, noting that the hut was eerily quiet. Something was entirely off about everything, and it was only causing that terrible doom feeling inside himself to grow. "Uh, Babe? You in here?" he stepped inside, looking about, while the other two quietly did the same.

He stepped down the hallway and up to the bedroom door, knocking quietly. "Mrs. Juice? You in there?" he asked, before pressing a moldy ear against the door. Nothing. He pushed the door open to reveal an empty room with an unmade bed. He then marched up to the balcony, only to find himself alone, with the now evening breeze blowing quietly through his wild hair. It was unnervingly silent. As a matter of fact, it was so silent that he could've sworn he'd heard soft sobs coming from god knew where. "Lydia?" he asked thin air for some reason, feeling near-panic for some other, even stranger reason. There was something at the back of his subconscious gnawing away at his insides. Of course, when he'd reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped back into the living room, he then realized just why that was happening.

Adam stood, glaring a hole through Beetle's head, clinching a crumpled note in his hand. Chuck sat on the couch, holding his head like he was afraid it would fall from his shoulders.

"Everything alright there, pal?" Beetle asked, instantly realizing nothing was even remotely alright.

"No. No it's not. You did lie to us." Adam scowled, throwing the crumpled paper hard and hitting Beetle in the chest with it.

"The fuck're ya talkin' about?" Beetle's face twisted in confusion, as he picked up the paper, straightening it out to read. Of course, when his eyes skimmed the words, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. "N-no, that didn't happen, pal! I didn't cheat on her! Bab's is wrong about that shit! I swear it!"

"Barbara didn't say that. Lydia did. We're leaving." Adam spat, turning to walk away.

"Wait! WAIT!" In a moment of sheer desperation, Beetle ran up to Adam, shoving him into the wall.

"Get your hands off me, you idiot!" Adam hissed, kicking Beetle in the shin as hard as inhumanely possible.

"FUCK!" Beetlejuice yelped, slamming Adam harder, as Chuck stood up, backing up slowly toward the front door. "HEY! NOT SO FAST, POPS!" he shouted, juicing a giant ball and chain around his ankle, before turning back to Adam. "Look, I WAS with a woman, but it's not whatchya think! I SWEAR!"

Adam struggled hard, wearing Beetle down. "Then you'd better get to explaining!"

"IT WAS ROSE! I wasn't CHEATIN'! I was keeping Lydia's MOM away! I'M the reason she's incognito!" he growled, pointing his trigger finger in Adam's face and shooting it. Suddenly, four chains burst through the walls, binding his body to it.

"I thought you said your hostage taking days were over, BJ!" Adam yelled, wriggling in a failed attempt to break free, as Beetle staggered back, nearly dropping to the floor from exhaustion.

"They are!" he insisted, knowing damn well that they weren't, but desperately denying it anyway. "Rose showed up unnanounced, okay? I was leadin' her astray so she wouldn't talk Lydia into leavin' my ass...I may be a lot ah things, but I ain't no cheater, pal..."

"I don't believe you. You're a liar!" Adam winced, fighting against the impossible chains holding him back.

"Can't you just let us go be with Lydia?" Chuckie, of all people, grew enough of a sack to chime in, pissing Beetle off even more.

"NO!" he yelled in furious desperation. "I can't let yer asses go now! You won't gimme a chance to explain myself!"

"Then explain where Rose is!" Adam demanded.

"Fuck..." Beetle muttered. "She's at her house! I juiced her there with Rico Suave or whatever the fuck his name is!"

"And we're just supposed to take your word for it?!" Adam huffed sarcastically.

"Well, yeah?" Beetle shrugged, feeling so desperate and panicked that his mind was up and leaving the building, full-on Elvis style.

"We don't have any proof of that." Chuckie rubbed his sweaty forehead, appearing exasperated, as he kicked at the chain he was currently tangled in.

"That's it! You guys want proof? I'll show ya!" Beetle grinned, rubbing his hands together.

* * *

Beetle walked up to the shore, yanking the glowing chain he was carrying to speed his NOT hostages up. The last thing he needed was a bunch of concerned bystanders trying to take his ass down while he was in the process of possibly redeeming himself. If that even was possible by this point, he wasn't so sure, but he was far too desperate to think about it.

"You could tell us to walk faster. We're not on leashes..." Adam grumbled, fighting the glowing handcuffs on his wrists connected to said chains and failing.

"Then walk faster!" Beetle growled, as he stepped up to the water. He closed his eyes, seeing that Rose had temporarily given up her usual act of pounding on the barrier to reside in her big, unfairly swanky mansion. He was about to juice the three of them directly there, only to find that his powers were stretched so thin in keeping his first prisoners, that he couldn't. He considered himself a fairly powerful guy, but after constant strengthening of the barrier Rose had been chipping away at, the attempting to silence her in Lydia's mind, _and _keeping Adam and Chuckie with him, he was getting a teensy bit fatigued. Therefore, he chose to improvise.

"Well? What now?" Adam nagged, shaking his head in apparent annoyance, as per usual.

"Eh, what the hell?" Beetle shrugged, pointing his finger and juicing a small sailboat in the water.

"Are we supposed to actually ride in that thing? To the other end of Paradise?" Chuckie boy asked, his eyes growing wide in fear.

"DING DING DING! We have a winner!" Beetle grinned, yanking the chains and forcing the two of them to get in.

"ACK!" Charles immediately fell face first in an attempt to get in without the use of his hands.

"You know, this would be a lot easier if we weren't chained up." Adam remarked, stumbling in the boat himself.

"Nice try, pal. Ain't gonna happen." Beetle grunted, climbing in and grabbing Chuck by the arm and pulling him up. "Can't show ya Rose if ya go runnin' to the authorities on my ass."

"What if we're not going to the authorities?" Chuck proposed, in some shitty attempt to change his mind.

Beetle kicked against the shore, as the rickety sailboat took off. "Sorry, Pops. Can't trust it. Even that sweet little daughter ah' yers pulled that shit on me at one point. That means, you fine folks can't be trusted." Beetle explained, damn near feeling justified in what he was doing, as he sat at the head of the boat, juicing himself a cigar. He puffed on it, smoke balling from his lips. "Don't you worry, Pops! As soon as this shit is over, we can all move past this! Promise!" he grinned deviously, feeling proud enough of himself to temporarily forget just how much trouble he was truly in.

* * *

"Do you even know where we are?" Adam whined, causing Beetle to snarl his lip and clinch the beer in his hand extra hard, much like he yearned to clinch it around Adam's throat at the moment. "We've been here for hours! There's no land in sight!"

"Sure I do!" Beetle snorted, finishing his beer and tossing it carelessly over his shoulder and into the ocean.

"Then where are we?" Adam snarked, raising a brow and looking all smug and punchable and stuff.

"Er..." Beetle scratched his head, realizing he actually had no fucking clue whatsoever. As much as he hated to admit to himself, the stress was getting to him. Of course, he wasn't about to let them know his brain was like a dish of scrambled eggs with a side of fucking short term memory loss. "Right on track, buddy. That's all yer ass needs to know!" he cackled, watching Adam shake his head and sigh.

Beetle zapped another beer into his hand, watching the sun set in the ocean as the dark, throbbing pain inside started to trickle back in unexpectedly. He sighed, downing his brew as fast as possible to mask it.

Fortunately, the Chuckster opened his mouth, proving to be a welcome distraction. "Maybe you can just bring Rose here. Wouldn't that be quicker?" he asked hesitantly.

Beetle grinned, tossing another empty bottle over his shoulder. "Ya know, I knew I liked ya for a reason, Chuck!" Why hadn't he thought of that? Probably because he was desperate, exhausted, stressed to the max, and borderline trashed at the given moment. Either way, he could juice her on board and take down that power-slurping abomination of a barrier he'd created. It was practically an idiot-proof idea.

"So you had no idea what you were doing, after all?" Adam remarked, smirking enough to make Beetle want to wipe it off his face with a cheesegrater.

"Shut it, Maitland!" Beetle growled closing his eyes, as his vision focused on Rose, who was currently sulking at her kitchen table with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Foreign rubbing on her back. Two for one, he figured, snapping his fingers, as the sailboat expanded, with the both of them plopping into it, hands and feet bound in glowing cuffs. Immediately, much to his relief, he let the barrier dissipate, noting all the people staring at it from the beach. Yeah, it was probably a good idea to clean that baby up before someone called the cops. It was a thousand wonders someone hadn't already, but enough beach parties and booze could distract anyone, he figured, shrugging to himself.

"YOU! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! TAKE ME TO LYDIA!" Rose squirmed about in her handcuffs, as her boyfriend sat there, wide-eyed and fearful.

"Hey! HEY! CALM THE FUCK DOWN, LADY! You'll get to see Lydia soon if ya shut up an' listen to me!" Beetle yelled, as she closed her yap, glaring at him as if she'd spontaneously combust his ass at any given moment.

"Why are you doing this?" her muscle-bound lover piped in, albeit in a less screechy, demon-like manner.

"Glad ya asked, Senor! Look, I'm in a little bit of a pickle at the moment." he began, standing up and pacing about the boat, only to be cut off by the likes of Adam.

"This is going to be good..." he snorted, as Beetle glared his way.

"ANYWAY..." he continued, snarling his lip at Barbara's lap dog. "My ass has been wrongfully accused of trying to cheat on my dearly betrothed with YOU!" he growled, pointing his grimy finger in Rose's face. "Now, we can sit our asses here ALL NIGHT and debate about it, or you can clear me up now, so we can go about our merry way. So, what'll it be, Toots?" he raised a brow, squatting down to eye-level with Lydia's mother.

Rose glared into his eyes for the longest time, before sighing and dropping her gaze to the floor. "What do you want to know?"

Beetle grinned widely. "Ah, now that I have yer cooperation, tell these dingleberries that I didn't have sex with yer ass!" he growled, pointing over to Adam and Chuck.

Upon locking eyes, with her ex-husband, Rose nearly did a double-take. "Charles? What are you doing here?"

Chuck awkwardly shrugged, laughing hysterically, with a large, nervous grin on his features. "It's a long story. Just do what he says."

"Fine. No, we DIDN'T have sex. I mean, at first I thought you WANTED to, until I found out just what you were doing, which was WAY WORSE, in my opinion!" Rose spat, nearly foaming at the mouth. "WHY the hell would you do that?!"

"There ya have it, folks!" Beetlejuice cackled, throwing his hands up. "Ya have it straight from the old nag's mouth!" This prompted a collective eyeroll from his UN-prisoners, but he chose not to address that matter.

"You didn't answer her question." Rose's boyfriend spoke up, also glaring daggers at him.

"And just who the hell are you, Loverboy?" Beetle sniggered, his hands clasped proudly behind his back. He had to admit, this was going quite smoothly, considering he had a full blown, possible mutiny on his hands upon his NON captives' release. Eh, apples and oranges, he figured. Or was it tomato, tom-_ah_-toe? He shrugged. Didn't matter anyway.

"My name is Juan." he snapped. "Rose asked you a question. Why DID you do this?"

Beetle feigned a wide grin. "Glad ya asked, Juanny-boy!" he began, his smile instantly vanishing. "WHY THE FUCK DO YA THINK?!" he shouted, flailing about and causing them all to wince. "LOOK AT ME!" he said, pointing a grimy finger to his chest. "THE NEITHERWORLD HAD IT OUT FOR ME, LYDIA'S FOLKS HATED MY ASS, HER FRIENDS THINK I'M A DICKWAD, AND YOU THINK I'M JUST GONNA LET YOU WALTZ ON IN AND TALK HER OUTTA BEIN' WITH ME TOO?! WELL I GOTTA LITTLE SECRET FOR YA. THE ANSWER IS NO! NEGATIVE! ZERO! NIL! NO-FUCKIN'-BUENO, KAPEESH?! YOU AIN'T GONNA GET TO HER! NOT UNTIL YA GO THROUGH ME, DOLLFACE!"

Rose's face began to burn with anger. "I didn't even KNOW you!"

"Heh. You say that now, like you woulda' gave my ass a chance!" Beetle laughed darkly, juicing a smoke in his shaky hand to calm his nearly non-existent nerves. "I'm a half-rotted poltergeist, Toots! Ya can't say my dashing good looks would real yer ass right in!"

"Well..." Rose grimaced, looking him over and further justifying his argument.

"See?" Beetle shrugged, blowing little skulls into the air. "I prove my case. How about when ya find out how I met her. Yep, Adam and yer ex-hubby over here know that story REAL well, dontchya boys?" he said, pointing to them, as they both hesitantly nodded. "Yup, tried to marry yer daughter when she was jailbait just to get out of the Neitherworld. Pssh, it's a long story, but even if I told ya it weren't fer no pervy reason, would ya even believe my ass?!"

Just as Rose began to open her mouth, Beetlejuice quickly silenced her. "THEY DIDN'T! Adam's been a thorn in my ass the whole time, and the Chuckster over here is afraid ah' me! Ya pissed yerself yet, Pops?" he looked over to Chuck.

"No..." Charles quickly shook his head.

"You will. Give it time..." Beetle sighed, rubbing his head as smoke balled from his moldy lips. "Oh, and did I tell ya I held Lydia hostage too?" he kept the ball rolling, letting it all out in the air, because why not? Fuck it. "Yup. She came back to me in the afterlife tryin' to apologize for shit she didn't do, which she probably got from YOUR ass,'cause Chuckie over here ain't where it came from...Tried to get her to help me break free again, she accidentally marries my ass, a bunch of shitty stuff happens, she gets the feds after me...Blah, blah, we get into Paradise...Marital bliss an' all that shit...Then I fuck it up again...and yep, here we are! Now..." he stepped up to Rose, grinning deviously as he blew smoke into her face, causing her to cough uncontrollably. "Do you think you'd gimme a chance?"

He studied her horrified face, as she seemed too shocked for words. "No? Didn't think so." he shrugged, sitting back down and leaning back with his hands behind his head and his smoke dangling loosely from his lips. After a moment of shocked silence from his reluctant audience, his partially fucked mind wandered to another question. "So, uh...Which one of yer asses told on me?"

"Well, you know it wasn't us." Adam glared. "Charles and I were with you, you numbskull!"

"Rose? Loverboy?" Beetle turned to them, raising a brow.

"We were trapped in a big bubble." Juan wrinkled his nose up in confusion.

"Oh, right, right..." Beetle realized, scratching his head and studying. Of course, even if his mind was shot, he realized there was one shit-stirring, big boobed, dick riding wench who hadn't yet had the pleasure of his little boat ride. "Annie!" he snapped his fingers, and as the sailboat expanded yet again, Annie dropped into it from thin air, her hands and feet hog-tied with chains.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" she screamed, then looked to Beetlejuice, her face twisted in confused rage.

"Nice to see ya again, Annie. Feels just like old times, don't it?" he stood, flicking his smoke into the ocean with a large, malicious smile on his face.


	48. Not Perfect

Chapter 48: Not Perfect

"Why the fuck am I here, Pigsticker?!" Annie writhed about in her chains, glaring daggers at Beetlejuice.

"Oh, I think ya know why yer here, Annie. You been puttin' ideas in a certain someone's head? My wife, perhaps?" he glared at her from the other end of the boat, rubbing his scruffy chin.

"Look, it's not my fault you were out with another woman, ya dick-for-brains! YOU did it! Not ME!" she snarled, her hairy mole twitching with every word and causing Beetle's skin to crawl.

"WHAT WERE YA DOIN' AROUND MY WIFE?!" he stomped up to her, screaming in her face as he filled with rage.

"I didn't go to her, she came to the bar lookin' for her mother, you BASTARD!" she screamed back, her saliva smacking him square between the eyes. As a matter of fact, he hadn't exchanged that much bodily fluids with the bitch since his living days. He curled his lip in disgust as he wiped the spit off his forehead, wishing that thought hadn't crossed his mind at the worst possible moment. "I was gonna piss her off, but she's a nice girl! I don't know what the fuck she sees in you, but I told her the truth! She deserves to hear it from SOMEONE! You WERE out with another woman! That ain't MY fault!"

"YA DUMB BROAD, THAT WAS LYDIA'S MOM! HER! RIGHT THERE!" he growled loudly, pointing to Rose as Annie fell silent. "She was lookin' for Lydia, and I lied to her because I'm an asshole and I'm not gonna explain myself to the likes of YOU!"

Annie turned to Rose, eyeing her up and down. "It _was _you. He didn't try to take ya home, or grope your ass, or grab yer-"

"No!" Rose huffed, rolling her eyes. "I mean, I thought he was trying to hit on me, but in hind sight he wasn't. He was just lying to me to keep my daughter away from me. And you're right." she turned, locking eyes with Beetlejuice. "You _are_ an asshole. The worst kind of asshole. No, you didn't try to take me out, but what you've done is unforgivable. How long have you been keeping me away now? I didn't even get a letter back from her until just recently. I've been searching for her for YEARS upon YEARS!"

"Uh..." he fidgeted, in an attempt to come up with something smart enough to comeback with as not to lose the high ground in this conversation.

"Funny you should say that, Rose..." Adam piped in unexpectedly. "We had the same issue. We knew Lydia was in Paradise, but we magically didn't come into contact with her until just _recently_..." he narrowed his eyes on Beetlejuice, as everyone else followed suit.

"Hey, now! C'mon Adam! Chuck! I told Lydia about yer letters! HONEST!" he threw his hands up defensively, squirming under their scrutinizing gazes.

"You didn't tell me about Lydia, so why would we believe you told THEM!" Rose seethed.

"I DID! I SWEAR!" Beetle yelled, knowing he was losing them. At this rate, he was going to be permanently fucked without some proof. If they didn't believe him, they'd never even consider helping him change Lydia's mind. "Wait a minute..." he muttered to himself. "Where's Lydia?"

"Don't go bothering her! You've done enough!" Adam warned.

"Pfffft! Why am I asking you dick brains? Babs and Chuckie's main squeeze took her to _Daddy's_ place! It said so on that stupid little note!" he grinned at Adam, rubbing his hands together greedily. Sure, Lydia probably wanted to murder his ass three times over, but it was a desperate time and all that shit. He had no choice. Of course, when he reached out internally to find her, that horrible, sickening feeling hit him like a ton of blood thirsty tigers. Why tigers, he had no clue, but that's what it felt like. He felt the black void of despair surrounding her, and it damn near broke him in two. He quickly opened his eyes, feeling shaken. "Uh, be right back." he muttered awkwardly, dissappearing in a cloud of green haze and reappearing inside a bedroom in presumably Chuck and Delia's home, watching Lydia sob into a pillow uncontrollably.

Instantly, he held his breath, almost feeling too fearful to even utter a word. Unfortunately, however, he had no choice but to. "Babe?" he managed to choke out, though she seemed too lost in her pain to notice him. God, he was an unforgivable prick. He slowly stepped over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. As soon as he touched her, she shot up, her eyes wide, full of pain and tears as they locked with his own.

"No...no...I can't...get away from me..." she sobbed, covering her mouth with a shaky hand.

"Babe, Babe! Hear me out! It ain't what you think! I swear!" he tried pulling her toward him, only to be smacked across the face with the force of a thousand scorned wives. He stumbled back a bit, rubbing the offending, moldy cheek she'd laid into. "Look, ya gotta listen to me! I didn't cheat on ya! That was a misunderstanding!" he pleaded, trying to approach Lydia again.

At that moment, she scrambled up from her spot on the bed, backing away from him until she bumped against the wall. "Stop. Don't come near me..." she seethed.

"Please, Babe! Hear me out! I was with a woman, but it wasn't what you thought it was-"

"STOP IT!" Lydia grabbed her head, yelling and cutting him off. "I don't want to hear any more excuses and stupid explanations!"

"Lydia! PLEASE! You an' me are FINE! You got it all WRONG, Babe!" he ran up to her, grabbing her forearms and bringing her trembling hands down in order to desperately get her attention. "Just come with me!"

"NO!" she wailed, as Beetlejuice's insides began to shatter from her words. Lydia slid down the wall, falling from his grip and landing in the floor, curled up in a fetal position, holding herself and crying hysterically. "Go away! Please..."

"Babe, you know I love ya! Why would I do somethin' like that to ya? You're like the most perfect woman I've ever-" he began, only to be silenced immediately upon saying the cursed word he was foolish enough to utter in sheer panic.

"Perfect? PERFECT?!" Lydia screamed, standing and shoving him back so hard, his ass landed on the bed. "Did you tell that to Annie and her sister? To all the women you've chased?! To all the people you've FUCKED over?! Quit with the PERFECT bullshit, BJ! Quit with ALL of it! I'M DONE! IT'S OVER! NO MORE OF YOUR BULLSHIT STORIES, NO MORE LYING, AND NO MORE HAVING TO HEAR YOU CALL ME PERFECT, WHEN YOU DON'T MEAN JACK SHIT BY IT! Don't you see? Your words are so worthless, SO convoluted, so UNBELIEVABLE, that they mean absolutely NOTHING anymore! So get the FUCK out of here!"

"Babe, ya don't mean that..." Beetle desperately pleaded, holding his hands up in defense. "Tell me ya don't mean that..."

"BARBARA!" Lydia screamed, causing Beetle's eyes to grow wide, as he had no choice but to vanish into thin air and reappear in the boat, feeling like he was sinking in quicksand and so desperate he could explode into a thousand pieces.

"W-where's Lydia?" Charles asked apprehensively, which was just enough to set his hair trigger off.

"FUCK!" Beetle screamed, stomping and kicking the side of the boat, as he yanked at his wild hair. "What the fuck am I supposed to do NOW!?" he screeched, causing a streak of lightening to hit the water in the distance, the gigantic boom resulting in screams from each of his unwilling passengers.

He panted, feeling he was losing it as he paced about wildly in frantic circles, muttering to himself and attempting to find a way to fix this awful clusterfuck he'd created.

"You okay?" Annie's cocksucker opened, her grating voice hitting his ears like an atom bomb.

"Am I okay? AM I OKAY?! REALLY ANNIE? DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M OKAY? SURE, SURE, I'M RIGHT AS RAIN! EVERYTHING IS JUST HUNKY-FUCKIN'-DORY RIGHT NOW! WHAT DO YOU THINK?!" he seethed, literally feeling himself foam at the mouth with rage.

"Okay, asshole...Forget I asked..." Annie muttered resentfully.

"SHHHH!" Beetle silenced her, thinking about who the hell could possibly get him out of this trainwreck. "C'mon, c'mon...THINK!" he yelled, smacking the side of his head in a failed attempt to come up with somebody. Anybody. As a matter of fact, just when he was nearing the end of his rope, which could have possibly resulted in permanent insanity or worse, he thought of a thousand sparkling wrinkles and a big ole' neckhole spewing with hope. "AH! THAT'S IT!" he cackled, snapping his fingers.

In an instant, Juno fell from a portal in the sky, landing square into his boat. "What the bloody fuck are you doing, Juice?!" she scowled, standing up and dusting the back of her bermuda shorts off.

"I'm callin' on YOU to help my ass, Juny Baby!" he grinned widely, snaking an arm around her wrinkly old shoulders and pretending not to gag at the sight of more liver spots than possibly stars in the sky. "Heya...Has anyone told you Paradise is doin' wonders for ya? You don't look a day over ninety-nine!"

Juno scowled, smacking his hands away from her. "Get off me you big, dumb shit-for-brains!" she fumed, before pausing, her eyes catching sight of the situation at hand. "Oh no, Juice..." she began, her eyes meeting with each set of eyes staring back at her. "I don't want any part of whatever this screw-brained idea of yours is!"

"Aw, c'mon! It'll only take a second, scout's honor! All you gotta do is explain to these nice people how I let Lydia's folks come around and I'll let ya go. Then I'm off the hook, they're outta this situation, and you'll be back in the Paradise retirement home playin' Bridge an' sippin on martinis! Whaddaya say?" he juiced a martini in his hand, holding it out to her and hoping to the Powers that Be that she'd give up and do what he asked.

Juno eyed him warily, taking the martini in her hand. Beetlejuice grinned, waiting for his redeeming moment to happen, only to be splashed in the face with a fruity drink. Juno scowled, throwing the glass to the side. "Now you listen here, Juice! I'm in Paradise now, thanks to your wife!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know! She's practically Ghandi with tits, I get it! Now, what the fuck did ya do that for?!" Beetle fumed, wiping the burning alcohol from his face with a moldy arm.

"I'll tell you why!" Juno fumed, pointing an old, wrinkly finger in his face. "I've dealt with you for more centuries than any of these people can imagine! You've caused me more trouble and paperwork than you'll ever be able to fathom! Now I'm in a place where I can finally get some peace and relaxation, no thanks to YOU, and you come along trying to drag me into another stupid mess you only have yourself to blame for!"

"Yeah, but-" he began, only for her to poke his chest with that bony finger.

"I'M NOT FINISHED! It's not MY fault you kept all these people away from your wife!" she continued, as Beetle's eyes shot open upon hearing the old bag reveal the truth.

"SHHHHHH!" he shook his head desperately, gesturing for her to stop.

"NO, I'm NOT being quiet! I told you long ago that nothing good would come of keeping those letters from everyone, and NOW look at you! You're right back where you started, causing nothing but trouble for everyone you come into contact with!" she spat, turning to the now glaring passengers, who's eyes were fixated on Beetlejuice himself. "If you are pissed off at him, then you damned well should be!" she said, turning back to Beetle, who was biting back the urge to strangle that ugly neckhole.

"Well, you blew that chance, Juno." he spoke as calmly as possible, pointing to her and firing his trigger finger. In an instant, she fell onto the boat, her body wrapped in chains, with a gag in her mouth. "C'mon, Skeletor..." he grabbed her up by her arm, throwing her into an empty seat. "See, ya coulda' made this easy, but ya didn't." he shrugged, grinning darkly as he glared into Juno's angry eyes. Of course, he soon looked away, due to the fact that staring directly into her face bore the same result as staring into the sun, and he didn't want his retina's burned to a crisp on top of everything else.

"So you _did_ keep us away." Adam spoke from the far end of the ever-growing vessel.

"Yeah, whaddaya expect? You know who you're dealin' with, here..." Beetle sat down, rubbing his throbbing head an muttering defeatedly. "Look, I ain't a bad guy. It might seem that way, but-"

"But you kept all of us away from Lydia. How is that good in your eyes?" Rose asked, her brown eyes big and pleading, reminding him far too much of his wife and making him feel like twice the bad guy he was trying hard to show them he wasn't.

"It's not. I never said it was. I'm just sayin' I couldn't let ya around, cause I knew this would happen. This right HERE!" he said in exasperation, gesturing wildy to all his prisoners, which were, indeed hostages. Again.

"You've got to let us go." Charles spoke up, looking to his ex-wife with what seemed to be remorse in his eyes. "Rose needs a chance to be with our daughter. I've been lucky enough to spend time with Lydia. She hasn't."

"I can't do that." Beetle sighed, feeling lower than he could possibly imagine. "Sure, you guys will go on about your merry way, but where does that leave MY ass? " he said indignantly, pointing a thumb toward his chest.

"Then what are you going to do with us? You can't leave us here forever." Juan said, looking to the others, who nodded in agreement.

"I'll think of somethin'. Surely there's someone else I can get on my side..." he muttered to himself.


	49. It's a Deal

Chapter 49: It's a Deal

Beetle stood, arms folded, grinning at Gerald as he puffed on his cigarette. "Hey there, amigo. Think ya could help a guy out?"

Gerald stood, his eyes growing wide as he studied the miserable faces around him, before turning back to Beetlejuice. "What in creation are you doing, Mr. Juice?"

"Beats the hell out of me." Kevin remarked, rolling his eyes as he clacked his fake nails on the glowing handcuffs around his wrists. "I don't even know why I'm here."

"Fuck!" Beetle spat, glaring at Kevin. "For the last time, it was a MISTAKE! And while you're here, you'd better be nice and make up with my wife! It was ME who messed up yer little gay rave, NOT Lydia!"

Kevin sighed, shooting Beetle his best _I don't give a fuck_ look. "We already made up. I know it's _your_ fault, you big homophobe!"

"Fer the love of my ballbag, quit sayin' that! I don't hate yer ass any more than I hate the rest of Lydia's friends!" he threw his hands up in exasperation, while simultaneously putting his foot in his mouth so hard he'd practically kicked his moldy tonsils down his throat. "Er...That don't apply to you, Jerryboy..." he backpedaled, hoping Gerald, of all people, could find a way to help him out of the atomic shitstorm he'd created.

"Um...I'm not sure I understand what's going on here..." Gerald said nervously, dabbing at the sweat beading on his forehead.

"Okay, okay. Just hear me out." he began, holding his hands up like a cop was holding a gun to his face. "I kinda messed everything up."

"No kidding." Adam huffed, as Beetle shot him a quick glare.

"Look, uh, Lydia hates me fer lyin', these fuckers...er...people hate me...I'm pretty sure yer the only guy who can tolerate my ass at the moment. So, uh, is there any way you can help 'em see that I'm not some dirtbag that's gonna hurt Lydia?"

"Good luck with that!" Annie scoffed, cackling at his misery.

"You ever been to Saturn, Annie?" Beetle raised a brow, glaring at Annie over Gerald's shoulder.

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "No."

"Wanna go?" Beetle glared, as Gerald stepped into his line of vision, appearing to purposely block his view of the skank.

"Why are all these people tied up?" Gerald asked fearfully, fumbling about with his hands.

"He tied us up!" Rose spoke up, glaring daggers at Beetle.

"Ya gave me no choice!" he yelled back, juicing another smoke into his trembling hand and taking a puff to try and settle himself down. "None of 'em did."

"It wasn't our fault. You were the one that lied." Adam stated, his voice rife with resentment.

"Oh, dear..." Gerald muttered under his breath, taking in each of Beetle's prisoners, before hesitantly turning to Beetle. "I suppose I'm next, aren't I?"

"Nah. Not if ya help me." Beetle replied distractedly, now gazing out at the night sky, his smoke writhing up like snakes among the stars. "_If_ ya can help me, that is."

"Where's Lydia?" Beetle heard Gerald inquire from behind him, her name causing him to wince hard.

"I tried talkin' to her, but..." Beetle sighed, flicking his ashes in the black waters. "I think this could be my last fuck up, if ya get my drift."

"She thinks he cheated on her." Annie interjected, as Beetle looked over his shoulder at Gerald, who was staring at Annie, speechless.

"Well...Did you?" Gerald's meek voice hit his ears, causing a stabbing pain inside his chest.

"Oh, man..." Beetle wiped his face, feeling too defeated to scream anymore. "I really am the biggest piece a' shit walkin', ain't I?" he muttered miserably, seating himself at the head of the boat and staring at his feet. "None ah' you guys trust me, do you?" he asked in earnest, watching all his hostages warily eye each other, remaining silent.

"Not to be rude, Mr. Juice, but I don't think they _can_, given their current situation." Gerald admitted, fiddling nervously with his handkerchief as he eyed the hostages.

"And what about you, Jerryboy? You still hate me?" Beetle asked, knowing damned well he sounded more than pathetic.

"Hate is an awfully strong word, Mr. Juice." Gerald said, shaking his head and appearing uncomfortable.

"But ya sure don't like my ass, do ya?" he continued his questioning, placing his cigarette back in his lips and taking a long, hard draw from it.

"Well...I mean..." Gerald began nervously, only for Beetle to interject.

"Yeah, don't answer that, pal." he muttered, not wanting to hear another word about what a despicable, rotten piss stain he'd been.

"You know this isn't right, Mr. Juice. Lydia would be heartbroken to find out that you've held her loved ones hostage like this." Gerald pleaded with him, his eyes sympathetic and fearful at the same time.

"I hate to break it to ya, but she already is. I've all but ruined her fuckin' afterlife." Beetle shook his head, wiping his hand over his face and feeling like he was being exorcised from the inside out. "I've never seen her like that. Ever."

"Please...Let me see my daughter. She needs me..." Rose pleaded softly, her eyes beginning to sparkle with tears, tearing up his insides further. She looked so much like Lydia, and her expression was just as pleading and heartbroken.

"You _do_ love Lydia, don't you?" Gerald asked him in earnest, and while he'd usually get offended at such an idiotic question, he found himself feeling too helpless to fight back.

"Of course I do." he answered, feeling his wedding ring tingling immensely on his ring finger. He inhaled deeply, staring at the ring, fearful of just why that sensation was so strong. "I may be a lyin', drunk, no good son of a bitch, but that's one thing I never lied about."

"Love alone isn't enough." Adam chimed in, frowning indignantly. "You can love someone until the cows come home, but if you treat a person the way you've treated Lydia...Then, what does it matter?"

"Yeah, well it's not like I meant to fuck everything up..." Beetle growled, feeling defensive, yet too exhausted and sick to get into another screaming match with Adam, or anyone for that matter. The truth was that he was wearing down. Every lie he'd ever told seemed to be facing him, and it was taking a toll on him from the inside out."I just didn't believe someone that good would ever stay with a shitty asshole like me. I didn't want any ah' you to make her leave. I didn't do it 'cause I like causin' misery. I mean I used to, but those days are long gone. I did it cause I wanted to keep her around." he admitted, feeling more humiliated by the second. "Didn't work, _obviously_." he muttered, putting his cigarette out on his seat and pressing down hard in an attempt to let out his frustration.

"You know holding us hostage isn't going to fix this." Kevin spoke up, pointing a glittery nail in his direction. "You'd do good cutting your losses now, honey. If you come back from this, you'll be lucky, but you won't come out of this at all if you keep us here."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I get the picture." Beetle shrugged, staring at the floor.

"You said you love my little girl, right?" Chuck asked him, licking his lips and fidgeting nervously as he was prone to do.

"Well, yeah." Beetle furrowed his brow, not sure where he was going with that question. "Why?"

"Do you love her enough to let her be happy?" Chuck inquired, his breath heaving with anxiety.

"Look, I know what yer gettin' at, but-" he began, only for Gerald to cut him off.

"He's right, Mr. Juice. They're all right. You love her. That's apparent." he began, sitting himself across from Beetle and looking directly into his eyes with a deathly serious expression on his face. "But, time and again, I've seen you worry about nothing more than keeping her around, no matter _what _the price. You've been selfish, and no matter what she's done for you, it's never been enough to satisfy you. I've watched you lie, manipulate, and control her since before you two were even in Paradise. I tried to get her to see what you were doing to her, but she loved you too much. I knew, sooner or later, you'd break her heart if you didn't stop your greedy ways. And now we're here, together, in a boat that's holding Lydia's whole life hostage." Gerald pleaded, his eyes begging just like the others, and making Beetle feel about two centimeters tall. "Don't you see? You aren't just holding these people hostage, you're holding LYDIA hostage, too..."

"Damn..." Beetle sighed, smirking in an effort to cover up the fact that he was now at his breaking point. "When ya put it that way..." he shrugged, juicing the gag from Juno's mouth for a start.

"Whew..." Juno wheezed, scowling. "Just get it over with, Juice, so we can all get on with our afterlives..."

"Yeah, but where does that leave me?" Beetle felt his face twist in worry, showing his true emotions for once.

"Honestly, I don't know..." Gerald admitted. "But you'll at least have a chance this way. "

As much as he was internally breaking from the truth, Beetlejuice knew it to be just that. The truth. He stood on wobbly legs, feeling exhausted as the ring nearly burned his finger. He did love her more than anything, and that was why his own foolish, nasty, twisted little dried up fucker of a heart was breaking. He was destroying everything in her afterlife just to keep her around so _he _would feel okay, and even that wasn't enough for him. He'd never be able to unsee her pleading, hopeless eyes. The eyes that showed him just how selfish and terrible he'd been from the very start. The only thing left to do was cut himself out of the picture. It was the only way Lydia could remotely salvage her happiness, and he knew it.

He looked to Gerald a final time, shaking his head in disbelief with what he was about to do. "Ya know, I'm probably goin' to regret this..." he admitted, before looking straight into Rose's pleading eyes. "Just do me a solid here." he said, clearing his throat in an attempt to hold back his emotions due to the magnitude of what he was about to do. "Just tell her the truth. Tell her I really do love her. Can ya do that for me?"

"Sure..." Rose nodded, swallowing back her own tears, probably due to the fact that he wouldn't keep her from her daughter any longer.

He inhaled deeply, pointing to one of her cuffs, as it gently opened up, freeing one of her hands. Beetle walked up to her, holding out his own hand. "Deal?" he asked, swallowing back his own pain.

Rose bit her lip worriedly, as she hesitated. "This isn't some kind of trick, is it? You're not going to use your powers on me or anything?"

"Nah...I'm just goin' on yer word." Beetle admitted, waiting for her to shake, and hoping against hope that she wasn't as much of a liar as he had been.

"Deal." Rose nodded, finally shaking his hand.

"Alright. Guess that's it." he shrugged, not knowing what else to say, as he sighed, watching the chains and handcuffs gently float off his former victims and float slowly down to the floor of the vessel.

Adam turned to him, nodding. "You're doing the right thing."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." he snorted, juicing another boat to the side of his rickety old sail boat. He then pointed his finger between them, connecting them with a glowing ramp.

He watched as everyone began to smile and exchange relieved glances, quietly leaving the sailboat. Gerald briefly stayed behind, patting him on the shoulder. "Would you like me to stay behind, Mr. Juice? I don't know if it's a good idea to be all by yourself after this." he asked, concern lining his features.

"Go ahead, pal. No need in humorin' my ass." Beetle chuckled, trying not to show just how bad his insides were ripping apart. He choked on his words, awkardly clearing his throat. "Besides, I need a little time to get my shit straight, ya know?"

Gerald nodded silently, before boarding the other vessel. Beetle watched as his ramp dissolved on his command. He then snapped his finger one final time, sending the boat on it's way back to the shore. He stood there for the longest time, gazing at the dark night sky and wondering just how the hell he was going to live without her.


	50. All Good Things

Chapter 50: All Good Things

Lydia sat on the edge of her bed, fiddling with the ring on her finger. It was so loose she couldn't figure out how it wasn't falling off. However, each time she tried to pull the uncomfortable band up, it would stop at the edge of her fingernail, as if being held there by some strange, magnetic force. This was the last time she'd sworn she'd try to remove it, and it held the exact same results. "Fine. Don't come off..." she sighed, shoving the annoying thing down and sighing.

The night she'd sent Beetlejuice away, it burned hot on her finger, loosening to the very spot it rested in at the moment. She didn't know if she'd ever understand what was going on with him or the ring. All she knew was that after a few weeks of balling her eyes out and plenty of loving shoulders to cry on, she began to be able to function again, little by little.

She figured it was for the better that he hadn't popped back into her life, despite being told about the fact that his apparent womanizing was actually part of some grand, bizarre scheme to keep her to himself forever. The more she thought about it, the more disturbing it became. Even more disturbing was the fact that his atrocious behavior, no matter how idiotic and deplorable, was never quite enough to break the bond she held with him. The whole insane situation had only highlighted a terrible, troubling flaw within herself to allow such a thing to happen in the first place.

Lydia laid back, staring at the ceiling and wondering if she'd ever regain any semblance of normalcy to her afterlife, or simply be doomed to loving a deranged con man-slash-poltergeist for all eternity. Regardless, his absence was for the better, and she knew it.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, pulling her from her deeply perturbing, still quite painful thoughts. "Lydia, I made some Pineapple Upside Down Cake! Why don't you come down and get some with us?" Barbara asked, her smile warm and welcoming. "It's Rose's recipe. She wants you to come down and try a bite."

"Sure." Lydia smiled half-heartedly. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Just don't stay up here alone too long, okay?" Barbara warned in that motherly fashion she'd come to appreciate now more than ever.

"Okay." Lydia nodded, as Barbara gave a mutual nod in return, gently closing her room door. She had to admit, it was nice living with Rose for a change. Her mother filled a huge void that Lydia knew no one else ever could. She fell back onto the bed, replacing her sadness with the warmth of being reunited with her biological mother. She smiled to herself, closing her eyes and soaking it all in.

"Heya...Care if I talk to ya fer a minute?" a rough familiar voice hit her ears, causing her eyes to shoot open. Lydia scrambled up to her feet, gazing at the one person she didn't want to have to look at.

"BJ...What are you doing here?" Lydia cleared her throat uncomfortably, watching as her still presumably current husband stood in the corner of her room, holding his hands up defensively.

"Don't worry. I ain't gonna try to talk ya into takin' me back." he began, as she quickly picked up a robe to cover up her thin nightgown.

"Then what do you want?" she asked, her voice coming out much less harsh than she'd intended.

"I just wanted to know if Rose kept her end of the bargain." he admitted, leaning against the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Lydia averted her eyes from him, slowly nodding. Of course he still loved her. Of course it was all a big misunderstanding, and yes, he'd remained faithful. Even so, it wasn't enough to make her come back. There was far too much pain between them, and she doubted if it could ever completely heal. "Yeah. She told me everything."

"It wasn't enough, was it?" he asked, slowly stepping over to her. He motioned over to the bed, his calmness secretly scaring the shit out of her. "Can I sit beside ya, or is that an automatic ass-kickin'?" he smirked, as she shrugged, nodding in agreement due to her sheer loss for words. "So?" he urged her to answer his question.

"I-I wish it was." she bit her lip averting her eyes from him.

"That's what I thought." he sighed, clasping his grimy hands together as his elbows rested on his knees. "Can't say I blame ya, Babe. Honestly, I don't know how ya put up with my dumb ass as long as ya did."

"It's because I loved you, BJ. I still do, but-" she began, only for him to hold a finger up and shoosh her.

"You don't have tah say it, Babe. I get it. Sometimes feelin' it ain't enough. You did everything right, Babe. I was the one who ruined it." he admitted, shrugging, as Lydia began to feel tears creep into her eyes against her will.

She quickly wiped at her face, staring at the floor. "Hey, at least we tried, right?" she asked, her lips weakly smiling as she looked at him. Though he was grinning, his eyes were full of sadness.

"No, Babe. You tried. I never tried hard enough while I had ya." he admitted, standing up. "You're uh...ring still on?" he asked awkwardly, eyeing her hand.

"Yeah. It won't come off." she stood, stepping toward the window and gazing out at the sea to distract her from the pain she was currently feeling. However, it couldn't distract her from feeling his eyes on her, or his presence through their ill-fated bond. "I don't know if it ever will."

"Doesn't matter. You're not obligated to be Mrs. Juice anymore." he sighed, as she whipped around, her face falling slack upon hearing his words.

"Are you-"

Beetle quickly shook his head, in turn keeping her silent. "Before ya ask, this ain't some trick, Babe. Let's face it. I don't deserve that. Maybe I thought I did at one point, but now...I don't think I ever really deserved it. I may have had my moments, but let's be real here. Things always come with a catch when I'm involved, amirite?" he waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten her mood, and it somehow did just the opposite.

As much as she wanted the truth to be different, he was right. It was coming straight from his mouth. As much as she wanted to be with him, she began to see the truth. He'd always taken advantage in some way. He'd always held her under his grimy thumb, and now he was admitting to it. Lydia nodded, wiping at her eyes and turning back to the window, ashamed of showing the pain she was in.

"Hey, hey..." he tried consoling her, gently grabbing her shoulders and turning her around to face him. "Look, you don't owe me a damned thing, Lydia. Hell, you don't even gotta talk to my ass again. From this moment on, you gotta do you, Babe. You don't need my gross, crusty ass holdin' ya down. I wanted ya real bad when we first got here, but now, knowin' the shit I've put ya through, I know that was wrong as hell to be with ya. I shoulda let ya have yer freedom then. I shouldn't have took yer offer. I was a better friend than a spouse, and that ain't sayin' much."

By now, Lydia couldn't stop the tears from flowing, and no matter how much she longed for them to patch things up and be okay, she couldn't shake the immense fear he'd built inside her all of those years. In their current state, coming together seemed nearly impossible. No matter how hard it was, Lydia had to face the truth. They were hopelessly in love in an even more hopeless situation. He was who he was, and she couldn't exist with him in that way, and that alone was enough to break her heart. "What will you do?"

"Eh, don't worry about me. I'll be around. Unless ya want the hut, then I'll be livin' in a box by the beach I guess." he snorted, patting her shoulder affectionately.

"Take it, BJ. I don't need it." Lydia insisted, feeling somehow deeply sympathetic toward him, though she probably shouldn't have.

"You're still too nice, Babe. If I can't teach ya, I don't know if you'll ever learn." he scolded. "Don't let the next guy by with so much, Doll. It'll do you some good."

"I don't know about all that, BJ. I don't even want to think about it." she shook her head, feeling disgusted with the thought of even trying to move on.

"Eh, maybe not now, but you'll get over my ass. Give it some time, Babe. Hell, if yer looks don't hook 'em, yer personality will make 'em crazy about ya. Believe me. I've experienced it first hand." he grinned widely.

That little remark was enough to set her off. Lydia began to sob, falling into his arms. "I'm so sorry, BJ..."

"For what?" he asked in earnest, patting her on the back as she cried in his embrace. "I told ya to stop that apologizin' crap, Babe." he scolded her again, pulling away from her and gazing into her eyes with a stern look on his grimy features. "Don't let no one else do ya the way I used to. Once you start sayin' I'm sorry for every little thing, they'll think it's okay to push you around. Got it?"

"Yeah, BJ. I got it." she nodded, feeling somehow deeply appreciative of his advice.

"Good, and if some dickwad tries to fuck with ya, you call on me. I'll shut him up." he grinned, though Lydia felt that he was serious underneath that facade.

Lydia nodded, feeling too emotional for words at that point. Instead of talking, she pulled him in again, hugging him so tightly she felt she'd break his back. "Thank you, BJ." she whispered, tears pouring down her face.

"No, Babe. Thank you." he said softly in her ear, hugging her back just as tightly. Eventually, however, their moment came to an end, and as she felt his grip loosen, she backed away from him.

"I'll miss you." Lydia admitted, knowing for now her home was with Rose, and temporarily the rest of her visiting family on the other end of Paradise.

"Hell, you can always visit..." Beetle said, apparently catching himself. His smile immediately fell a bit. "Or not. Shit, I'd be happy to see ya, but you gotta do what makes ya feel good, Babe. If that ain't it, then don't worry. All this broke-dick ghost wants is for you to be happy. That's it. Whether I'm in the picture or not. No strings attached this time. I swear it."

Suddenly, the door to her room swung open again, with Rose peering through, wide-eyed and full of surprise as she caught sight of Lydia with her now ex-husband. "Oh, I guess this is a bad time." Rose muttered, eyeing them both.

"Don't worry, Toots. I'm gettin' ready to slide on out anyway. I just wanted to check on the little lady here. Ya know, see how she was doin'." Beetle shrugged awkwardly, as Rose slowly nodded, gently closing the door behind her.

"Mom's just wanting me to go down and try her recipe." Lydia smirked, rolling her eyes in amusement with Rose's excitement over a cake, of all things.

Beetle grinned widely, nudging her arm. "You go do that, Babe. Take a bite fer me, will ya?"

"Sure." Lydia nodded, trying her best not to burst into another fit of sobbing.

"Alrighty then." Beetle nodded, checking all six of the watches on his arm, apparently for the sheer hell of it, considering none of them ever worked. It was enough to form a smile on her lips. "Better get goin'." he said, stepping up to her and grabbing her hands. "Take care of yourself, Lydia. If ya ever need my old ass for anything, don't hesitate to call on me. Understand?" he asked, his face showing signs of genuine, selfless concern, which was the strangest thing she'd ever experienced. It wasn't the grouchy, distant _do your own thing_ act that Beetle had forced himself into when they first arrived in Paradise. No, it was kind and generous and downright freeing.

"Okay, I will." she smiled warmly, before pausing. It was crazy, but she felt compelled to not hold in the way she felt. "I don't hate you at all. I have no hard feelings, I promise. As a matter of fact, I really do love-"

Before she could finish the sentence he placed a finger to her lips to silence her. "I know, Babe. I know. I love ya, too." he nodded, his features full of pain.

"Goodbye, BJ." Lydia's lips curled into a sad smile under his finger.

"Bye, Beautiful." he winked, and just like that, he vanished into a green, heart-shaped haze, leaving Lydia standing there, dumbfounded and speechless.

Lydia could have stood there gazing at nothing forever, but a subtle, metallic clink caught her attention. She looked at the offending object, bending down to pick it up. She looked at it, before gazing in awe at her bare hand.

It was her wedding ring.


	51. I'm Back, Baby!

Chapter 51: I'm Back, Baby!

Beetle opened his eyes as the light of the sun poured into them, causing him to growl and rub his aching head. "Fuck me..." he muttered, knowing damn well he shouldn't have binged on booze all night while watching sappy romance movies. That idea was about as smooth as jerkin off with sandpaper. Yep, definitely not his brightest moment, he reasoned, sighing, as he pulled the blanket further over his head to block out the offending rays of light.

He tossed and turned, knowing the sofa was about as comfortable as the aforementioned sandpaper masterbation, but fearing even laying his eyes on his old bed. Just as soon as he'd gotten comfortable, about a million loud-mouthed seagulls passed over the hut, causing him to thrash about more. "Fuck me! Can't a guy get some sleep around here?!" he grumbled, turning again.

However, about mid-way through his flailing fit, he heard something clink and roll across the floor. "The hell was that?" he muttered to himself, accepting defeat, as he rose up, growling and throwing the blanket across the room.

He rubbed his baggy, tired eyes, trying to wipe away the blurry, hangover vision that was currently plaguing him. He noticed something reflecting light in front of the window. "Huh." He raised a brow, standing and staggering over to it. Of course, when his vision finally focused in on the object, he stumbled back, falling to his ass on the floor.

He grabbed the circular object, holding it up and watching it shine in the light of the morning sun. "I'll be damned..." he muttered to himself, as he took notice of his own hands, which was a shocking enough sight to make him drop the ring again.

"Holy hell..." his eyes grew wide and wild, seeing the non-corpsey state of his appendages. He quickly scrambled up off the floor, looking himself over. "How the fuck did this happen?" He begin to feel of his face, which now felt warm and no longer cold and lifeless. He began to breathe deeply, as he took off to the bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"Heh..." he snorted, grinning from ear to ear in disbelief. "Hehe...HAHAHAHAHA!" he began to laugh hysterically, the roughness in his voice, still shining through, albeit a bit more subtle than before. "Pigsticker, you son of a bitch!" he cackled at his reflection, running through his home like the madman he'd always been. "No more eatin' insects! No more bugs crawlin' out my ass crack! No more lookin' like a twice cooked turd! I'M BACK, BABY!"

Of course, his moment of personal victory had been short-lived all due to one thought creeping into the back of his mind: What would Lydia think about him now?

He sighed, rubbing a hand through his still-wild, yet less offensively decayed hair. He needed to _not_ think about her, though he wondered if somehow she was responsible for his transformation. Honestly, he had no fucking clue what was going on. He turned back to the ring, quickly yanking it off the floor and sticking it in his pants pocket as he bolted out the door.

* * *

"Hey, there Jerryboy...I need a quick favor..." He stood at Gerald's front door, as the pudgy man backed up a step, appearing confused.

"Pardon me? Do I know you?" Gerald stared, taking his spectacles off and wiping them with his handkerchief.

"Course ya do, Jerryroll! I saw ya a while back...You know, the boat, the whole unprecedented, yet ultimately expected hostage situation I had goin' on..." he threw up his hands, hoping the chubby little shitstain hadn't forgotten him that fast.

Gerald squinted, slowly placing his glasses back on. "Mr. Juice...Is that you?"

"HA! Not anymore, pal!" he cackled. "Used to be though, that was until THIS little fucker rolled off my finger!" he said smugly, holding up the ring as Gerald eyed it.

"My heavens, you actually did it...Mr..." Gerald seemed to be choosing his words wisely, only to pause, apparently unable to figure out just what to call him.

"LaRou, but hell, you can still call me BJ." he shrugged, materializing a lit cigarette in his hand and bringing it to his lips.

"BJ? Not to intrude, but why that? Isn't that old, cursed name gone?" Gerald inquired warily.

"Well, yeah, but BJ still works, buddy." he replied indignantly. Why the hell would he use it if it made no sense? He sighed, rolling his eyes and realizing he'd have to say his full name. "It's Benjamen James LaRou, okay? Used to call me Pigsticker in mah livin' years, but don't call me that. Only livin' breathers I used to know call me that. BJ or Ben works, but for the love of all that's holy, do NOT call me Benjamen. Shit sounds dweeby as fuck..." he muttered, his smoke dangling from his mouth.

"Ah." Gerald nodded awkwardly. "Indeed. Well, good to know you haven't changed _completely_, BJ. Tell me, then, what is this favor?"

"Okay, pal. You're all nerdy and into books an' shit. You got my old tome, so...What's goin' on? Why did this shit happen NOW? I mean, I didn't even know I could be changed back, so that shocked the shit outta me, but still...What's the deal?" he asked, his curiosity gnawing at him, probably because he had a strange feeling that his ex-wifey had something to do with it, and that just gave him an excuse to think about her for no good reason. Hell, it wasn't like he'd ever get over her anyway, so he may as well think about her.

"Ah, come in!" Gerald seemed to liven up, motioning BJ inside. "Since you actually came through, I can now safely reveal to you just why this happened."

BJ's brow wrinkled in confusion. Just what the hell was he onto? "Er, whaddaya mean, Jerry?"

"I mean I knew the curse was breakable, but I couldn't tell you or it would possibly ruin your chances of breaking it altogether." Gerald replied, albeit still too cryptically for him to make any real sense of it.

"Go on..." BJ raised an eyebrow, pulling his cigarette away from his lips as smoke came drifting about.

"The curse you found didn't implicitly state that there was a cure, but like I told you before, I've read that tome time and again, end to end. And, in studying it so thoroughly, I came to realize the law of curses, and that was that they all are breakable, and they are all meant to teach the accursed a valuable lesson. Only when the lesson is truly learned, then shall the curse be lifted." Gerald explained, his eyes wide with enthusiasm over a fucking book, as per usual.

"Yeah, I didn't get that out of it. I just sort of found mah loophole and ran with it, if yaknowhaddimean!" He snorted, his ashes falling onto Gerald's floor. BJ then paused a moment. "So, uh, what lesson was I supposed to learn in all this shit?"

"I don't mean to offend when I say this, but only a completely and utterly greedy, selfish person would go to the lengths required to obtain this particular curse on their being." Gerald explained hesitantly, more than likely fearing a blow up from yours truly.

"Eh, can't deny that shit." BJ shrugged, seating himself in Gerald's antique rocking chair.

"What happened just before the ring fell off, BJ?" Gerald inquired, seating himself on the sofa beside him, rubbing his chin in deep thought.

"Oh, uh..." BJ trailed off a moment, before nervously clearing his throat. "I talked to Lydia one last time. More or less told her I was sorry. Wished her well. All that."

"I see." Gerald nodded, seeming to sense that it still pained him greatly to let her go. "Then my suspicions were correct. You needed to learn to let go of that greed. The ring chose her when she slipped it on, as the curse stated. That meant that she loved you enough to be with you. However, only through _your_ true, undying devotion would the ring ever release you both. That means you did it. The bond is broken. You can live your afterlife no longer being held captive as a poltergeist."

"That's good an' all, but I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do without Lydia. I can't even feel her anymore. She won't even be able to call on my ass now. See, we used to have this weird curse-bond thing goin' on, ya know? We could sort of phone in long distance with our brains an' shit. Oh, and don't even get my ass started on feelin' each other's emotions." he caught himself rattling on about her, and promptly shut his yap in response to said realization.

"I know you still love her. She loves you, too. That's why it worked out the way it did. Who knows? She could turn up again one day. Eternity is a long time to go without running into one another." Gerald assured him, though he was doubtful as hell about all of it.

"Yeah. Maybe one day, pal. Maybe one day..." he sighed.


	52. Old Friends

Chapter 52: Old Friends

Lydia watched her hands move along the keys of her mother's grand piano, playing furiously as she watched Rose and Juan dance about the large, chandelier-topped room, looking deeply into each other's eyes as they danced the salsa. She smirked, knowing she should be full-on cringing at the sight of her mother's affections toward her hunky love interest, yet she found it endearingly sweet in some off-beat kind of way. They did seem to fit together way more than Rose and her father ever did. It made perfect sense, however. Why wouldn't a piano teacher and a dance instructor have anything in common?

Lydia smiled, playing and watching in contentment, as the two lovers dancing in each other's arms caused her mind to drift into a subtle, somber area she'd tried very hard to avoid over the last year. Most of the time she was too busy or engaged in one of Rose's events to really have to deal with it. As a matter of fact, she'd become quite good at distracting herself. Of course, just as she felt herself slipping up, Rose tripped over Juan's foot, stumbling back and causing Lydia to immediately lift her fingers off the keys and stand quickly, stepping over to them.

Of course, Juan, who was extremely agile and light on his feet, gripped her forearm, catching her just before she fell to the floor.

"Oops!" Rose snorted, crinkling up her nose. "Clumsy me!" she exclaimed, as a smile crept across Lydia's lips, watching Juan pull her into his arms. "Good thing ONE of us isn't a total clutz."

"Don't sweat it, Rose. You're getting better." Juan smiled, turning to Lydia. "What do you think?"

Lydia nodded, smiling wider. "Yeah, he's right, Mom. You're doing good."

"Better than I was, anyway. At least this was just one slip-up." Rose shrugged, her hands on her hips, panting heavily.

"Ready to take five?" Juan turned to Rose, as she nodded fervently.

"Five? I'm done for the day!" she exclaimed, her pale face now beet red from exhaustion. "I can't keep up with you..."

"You can and you will." Juan playfully nudged her shoulder, "I'm going to go shower off."

"Be right there..." Rose said suggestively, causing Lydia to immediately frown.

"Mom..." she rolled her eyes, not impressed with that information. "I'm standing right here!"

Rose smiled sheepishly, shrugging apologetically as she walked up to Lydia. "I'm sorry. I got carried away." she admitted, before seating herself in front of the piano. "Are you ready for your big trip tomorrow?"

Lydia nodded, her heart feeling both heavy and hopeful. "Yeah. I haven't seen Gerald or Kevin in so long I'm afraid they won't even remember me." she teased, knowing full well that they wouldn't forget her. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay one more day and help you teach the kids?" Lydia asked, knowing Rose appreciated the time she'd spent helping her teach the little ones to learn the piano. Honestly, it was the most theraputic thing she'd done in a while. Lydia had deeply missed she and Rose's connection, and it was truly wonderful to be able to work together with her.

"Nah, I can handle them." Rose waved dismissively. "You can just make more of those flyers when you get back. You know about all that computer editing stuff that I hate dealing with."

"Okay. Deal." Lydia chuckled, seating herself beside her mother.

She watched as Rose looked over the ivory keys, smiling. "Remember when I taught you how to play Chopsticks?"

"Yeah." Lydia smiled, nodding. "Every time I hit the wrong note, you made me start over. I got so frustrated."

"You sure did." Rose looked into her eyes. "But you tried again and again, and eventually, you got it right."

"Finally." Lydia chuckled. "It took me long enough."

"Doesn't matter." Rose reassured her, stroking her hair. "You still did it." Then she paused briefly, her mind apparently wandering to something else as she grew silent. She looked back into Lydia's eyes with traces of sadness in her own. "You think he'll be there?"

Lydia's heart sank. "I...I don't know. Honestly, I tried not to think about it."

"It still hurts, doesn't it?" Rose inquired softly.

"Strangely enough, yeah. It does." Lydia gazed upon the piano keys, remembering playing in the old bar in the Neitherworld when he'd drunkenly staggered back into her life. "Honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do if I do see him."

"You know, I was in your place once." Rose began. "When I knew it was over with your father, it crushed me inside. I remember gazing out the window of our big, swanky penthouse apartment, knowing we were too different to ever really be happy together. He didn't want to change. I didn't want to change. It was over. I never thought I'd get through the pain. But you know what?"

Lydia warily raised a brow. "What?"

"I moved on, and you will too." Rose replied, still stroking her hair to comfort her.

"But..." Lydia began, almost afraid of asking such a ridiculous question. "What if I don't want to move on?"

Rose smiled warmly, her big, brown eyes showing nothing but compassion and love. "You are my daughter, through and through. You have that big old, crazy, weird, neurotic heart I gave you. I know how that feels, Lydia...To love someone so much you sacrifice yourself for that intoxicating feeling driving you. That's how I met Juan, and I wouldn't take back my weird, crazy heart for anything."

"So..." Lydia's face wrinkled in confusion. "Just what are you saying?"

"Don't tell your father I said this, but if it's meant to be, you'll know it. I know I should be trying to give you all kinds of wise, motherly advice, but when it comes to matters of the heart...I'm just as hopeless as you are, Lydia. If you love him, and you feel like it's right, then I won't stop you. Just make sure it's the right thing for you. Don't let him hurt you again." she warned.

"And what if it's not meant to be?" Lydia asked, her heart still shaken and fearful.

"Then you will move on, just like I did. And believe me, it was the best thing I ever did. I know it hurts to hear this, Lydia, but some things are left right where they belong: in the past." Rose said, regretfully.

"Yeah. You're right." Lydia admitted, inhaling deeply and trying to fight the increasingly troubling feeling growing inside herself.

* * *

Lydia stepped off the cruise ship and onto the dock, narrowing her eyes onto her old home in the distance, noting that the old beach chairs she and her ex-husband used to lounge on were no longer there.

Her heart sank just a bit more, as she walked amongst the crowd of exiting patrons, walking onto the sand and along the shore, strolling along with a heavy heart until she came to Gerald's hut.

She mentally composed herself, straightening her sundress and kicking the sand out of her flip-flops before knocking on his door. When she saw the door slowly open, she was met with a wide-eyed Gerald, who was now smiling so much it seemed he'd split in two.

"Well, Ms. Lydia Deetz! This is quite the surprise!" he chuckled happily, as she hugged him tightly, realizing just how much she'd missed her old friend. "Please! Please! Do come in!"

* * *

Lydia listened intently, resting her chin on her hand as she swirled her teabag around in its cup.

"And I discovered that lovely art museum a few towns down from here. I believe it's in the New Paradise area. You'd love it! There's so much information there. It's truly marvelous!" he gleamed, telling her every new library and historical monument he'd seen during his travels.

"That sounds wonderful, Gerald." she sighed happily, sipping his tea, which was arguably, the best she'd ever drank. No one could make it like him. Not even close.

"Well, things seem to be going quite smoothly for you as well, Ms. Lydia!" Gerald chuckled. "You're mother must be so happy to have you working with her. And helping those children learn the art of music, too. It's a lovely thing you two are doing together."

"Thanks." Lydia replied, feeling a bit off-put by the praise, which was a habit she never could seem to break. "You should come up and visit us sometime. Mom would love to have you. She loves everybody." Lydia shrugged, knowing full and well her mother was quite possibly more of a softy than she was, if that was even possible.

"It would be a pleasure, Lydia." Gerald smiled, sipping his tea, as Lydia's mind wandered back to the strangely empty shore in front of her former home. Apparently, her mood shift hadn't gone unnoticed by her friend, who questionably raised a brow.

"Something troubling you, dear?" he asked, as she tried feigning a smile, and failing to hide her still lingering pain.

"I know I probably shouldn't ask this, but..." Lydia hesitated, deeply unsure of the repercussions of opening up that buried can of worms from her past. "Is he still around?"

"Oh..." Gerald nodded, speaking in a hushed tone. He then cleared his throat, nervously adjusting his collar. "Yes. He's still around."

She froze, her mouth suddenly getting dry. She quickly took another sip of tea to wet her throat. "Uh, the yard. It's empty. The chairs...Is he still living there?"

"I suppose you could say that." Gerald mused, taking his glasses off and tucking them in his shirt pocket. "It's still his residence, to my knowledge, but he doesn't stay there much anymore."

"Oh." Lydia swallowed hard, secretly wondering if he'd already moved on. Truthfully, he was a free man. He had every right to, just as she did. "Is he living with someone else?" she asked warily, nervously fiddling with the teabag to distract herself.

"No, Lydia." Gerald admitted. "He has an old sailboat that he stays on most of the time. Believe it or not, he's taken up fishing."

Lydia immediately dropped the tea bag into the cup with a plunk, splatting tea all over Gerald's antique mahogany table. "Shit! Sorry!" she huffed, wiping it up frantically. "T-that doesn't sound like him...at all..."

"No, it doesn't, does it?" Gerald smirked, seeming amused by her. "Don't worry, he's still the same, smart-mouthed, bad-mannered idiot you've always known. He's just _changed _a bit."

"Changed? What do you mean?" she asked, not sure if she really wanted to know the answer to that question.

"Did you know every Friday he comes here, of all places, and holds a Poker night? He taught me to play, you know." Gerald laughed, seeming to be in disbelief himself.

"He _what?_" Lydia shook her head, baffled.

"I finally had the pleasure of meeting your other friends, as well. Kevin and Alejandro join us a lot of the time. Sometimes a few of BJ's fishing buddies come along." Gerald sighed, rubbing his head. "I know, it's a bit much, isn't it?"

"I...I don't know what to say. What happened to him? That sounds nothing like him..." Lydia said, in pure disbelief.

"Well, dear, I believe you broke his heart." Gerald smiled sadly, reaching across the table and placing his hand atop her own.

"B-but HE was the one who-" Lydia frowned, feeling deeply hurt and defensive about what her friend had said, only for Gerald to finish.

"I know, dear. Everyone knows it was his fault. He does too. Believe me." he continued, leaning forward and looking into her eyes. "When he lost you, I believe he realized he threw the best thing he'd ever had away. As much as it pains me to admit it, you changed him for the better, and he knows that."

"I...I had no idea..." Lydia stammered, holding her head and feeling almost speechless.

"Me either, dear. Sometimes fate works in strange and unusual ways." he smiled, gently pulling his hand back. "So my dear...How long will you be staying with us?" he redirected the conversation, apparently sensing that it was a great deal for her to take in.

"Oh. I'm staying until the end of the week." Lydia replied, unconscious of the fact that she was holding her hand over her rapidly beating, undead heart.

* * *

BJ tied his rickety old sailboat to a nearby palm tree, plopping himself in the sand and poofing a beer into his hand. "Fuckin' dry spell..." he muttered to himself, dejectedly. "You'd think an infinite ocean would get more than a few nibbles on mah line..." he grumbled, taking a long swig and laying back in the sand, staring at the evening sky.

It may have been lonely out on that piece of shit boat, but it was peaceful, and he did get used to it over time. He snorted to himself. "Eh, maybe I'll rob 'em blind again this Friday." he laughed, thinking about how none of those clueless fuckers had caught onto him yet. You'd think a guy with a three week winning streak would look a little suspicious by now, but they were none the wiser, and that was just fucking hilarious.

He sat up, leaning his back against the palm tree as he watched the busy beachgoers pass by. An elderly couple walked by holding hands, causing him to fidget uncomfortably, scratching his stubbly chin and averting his eyes from the sight. Yeah, shit like that was still hard to look at.

As a matter of fact, this had been the anniversary of the day he'd let her go. Some days were easier than others, but he already resigned himself to a shitty day before it had even begun. He inhaled deeply, downing the rest of his beer and dissolving the bottle. He snapped, as a lit cigarette dangled in between his lips. He may not have held insane superpowers anymore, but plain old dead guy powers were enough to suit him. Sure, they weren't as awesome or flashy, but they got the job done.

He sat there taking a long drag of his smoke and thinking of her, even though he tried his best not to. He wondered where she was, and how she was doing. Had she found someone else by now? Probably, he figured. A girl like that could get any guy she wanted. He reminded himself that if she was happy, then he was happy, no matter how bad that shit stung his insides. He pulled the smoke from his lips, flicking it about and becoming lost in memories of her. As a matter of fact, he was so lost in his thoughts, that he almost missed a glimpse of the woman his mind was focused so intensely on. _Almost._

When his eyes landed on her long, black locks and that dark blue sundress flitting about in the evening breeze, he did a double take, nearly shitting himself in the process. "Well I'll be a son of a bitch..." he said to himself, barely above a whisper. He stood, watching her peer in the window of their old home together, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips.

Much against his better judgement, he started walking slowly toward her, watching as she knocked on the door, her arms crossed nervously across her chest. He stood, remembering her all over again, and deciding to tell his better judgement to go fuck itself for the time being.

He cleared his throat nervously, taking another step toward her until he was too close to not speak to her. "Heya...You lookin' for somebody?" he asked innocently, playing cool, as she whipped around, looking more beautiful than he remembered. Her eyes were big and bright again, and her pale skin was glowing and radiant like an angel.

"Oh, uh..." she bit her lip, rubbing her upper arm nervously. "I don't suppose you know the guy that lives here, do you?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "That corpsey lookin' dead guy? The one with the wild hair? Looks like he bit into a power line?"

Lydia smirked, nodding sheepishly. "Yeah. That one. Do you know if he's around?"

"You won't find him here. Doesn't stay here much." he replied, scratching his head and feigning confusion just to gage her reaction. "What do ya want with that old creep? You sure don't look like his type."

"Oh, uh..." she frowned, clearing her throat uncomfortably. "It's not like that. I was just checking on him."

"Huh." he nodded, biting back the urge to smile, as he realized that in some strange way she still considered him, no matter how awful he'd been to her. "He'll probably be over at Gerald's place this Friday. We play cards together a lot. You'll see him. He never misses Poker Night."

"Does he still cheat like crazy?" she asked, chuckling.

"Pretty sure he still does. Fucker just hasn't got caught yet. Eh, you do what ya gotta do, amirite?" he grinned widely, quickly realizing his slip up.

He swallowed hard, as she held her gaze on him for a moment longer than he'd expected, studying him. She then shook her head, as if to shake some unwanted thought away. "I'd better get going. I have a friend I need to visit."

"Oh, well I won't stop ya." he nodded promptly, partly relieved she hadn't a clue who she was speaking to, yet sadly pained by that same notion.

He watched as she began walking away, feeling a rush of desperation flood through him. "Hey!"

She whipped back around, her hair blowing in the breeze, with a puzzled look on her features.

"You should really consider coming to that poker game!" he shouted, hoping against hope he could bide a little time with her. Of course, as much as he wanted to try to come clean and be with her again, he knew it was no longer his place to decide such a thing. It never was to begin with.


	53. Poker Night

Chapter 53: Poker Night

"Oh, honey, we'll love having you with us tonight!" Kevin affectionately patted Lydia on the shoulder, as he adjusted his large, disco ball earrings. "It's just a shame that you'll be leaving us tomorrow." he admitted, knocking on Gerald's door.

"That's right." Alejandro smiled warmly, giving her a tight squeeze. "We've loved having you."

"I loved staying with you guys." she smiled widely, feeling so lucky to have such caring friends. Staying at Kevin's place was a well-needed vacation, and it was a place far enough away from a certain home that she couldn't bring herself to think about.

"Next time, don't wait so long to see us." Alejandro scolded her affectionately, as Gerald opened the door.

"Ah, welcome, good sirs!" he said, his eyes locking on Lydia. "Ah, Lydia, I'm so glad you decided to join us before your departure!"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it." she replied, hiding the fact that she was a bit rattled by the notion that _he _could be there.

"Come in!" Gerald motioned them all inside, as Kevin pulled him off to the side.

"Does she know?" Lydia heard him whisper in Gerald's ear, causing her to inhale deeply. Obviously, it was something to do with BJ, and that unnerved her more than anything.

Gerald gave him an uncomfortable glance, before seating himself. "Please, Lydia. Do have a seat." he gestured for her to sit next to him, which strangely enough, was directly across from the stranger that approached her earlier in the week.

"I see we meet again." he sniggered, a large Cuban cigar dangling from his lips.

Lydia locked eyes with him, feeling strangely uncomfortable. His blue eyes were sharp and piercing, and he stared at her just a bit longer than she'd liked, rubbing his scruffy chin. "Yeah." she nodded, watching Kevin materialize two margaritas in his hands, handing one over to Alejandro.

"Anyone else want one? Lydia?" Kevin touched her arm.

"Sure. Why not?" she said nervously, wondering why BJ wasn't there yet. Regardless, she needed the alcohol to calm the uneasiness inside herself.

Kevin gave a sly smirk, sliding another drink her way. "Have you met Ben?" he gestured toward the stranger.

"Huh?" she asked nervously, glancing his way. He was still staring dead at her, though upon apparently realizing he'd been caught, he quickly looked down, forming a glass of scotch in his hand, twirling it about innocently. "Yeah, actually, back at BJ's place."

She looked back to Gerald, noticing that he was staring at the man. "Ben..." she mumbled under her breath, feeling the vaguely familiar ring of that name on her tongue. Where had she heard that before? Whether it was fear of seeing her ex-husband or simply the strangeness of being back in such a familiar situation, her mind simply couldn't come to any conclusion.

"You play poker?" he raised an eyebrow, as she watched him fidget a bit, running a hand over his unkempt, brown hair, smoke barreling from his cigar.

Lydia stared at him a moment, before nodding. Why was this so strange? What was happening?

"Are you gentleman ready?" Gerald asked the rest of them, sipping from an intricate tea cup.

They all nodded quietly, as the man looked to her again. "Ready?" he smirked, knocking back his scotch.

Lydia eyed the others at the table, feeling a strange energy about them, but not knowing if it was all just in her head. "Yeah. I'm ready."

"Alright, then! You boys ready to get yer asses kicked?" Ben snorted, shuffling the deck. "Now don't you go breakin' my winning streak." he looked up at her, grinning slyly, and for some bizarre reason, she involuntarily smiled back.

* * *

Lydia laid down a Royal Flush, surprised by her bout of good luck. "I can't believe I got this lucky again." she chuckled.

"Girl, you are on a roll! Ben, you'd better step it up, honey, or you'll be on cleanup duty tonight." Kevin laughed, biting his glittery acrylic nail.

"You're not cheating, are you?" Alejandro peered at her from across the table with a sly grin on his face.

"Now, now." Gerald smiled, folding his hand. "Don't be a sore loser, my friend. Lydia wouldn't cheat, would you?"

"Nah." Ben interjected, carelessly tossing his cards on the table in in defeat. "She's just that good, ain'tchya?" he smirked, tapping his fingers on the table.

"I wouldn't say that.." Lydia shook her head, feeling a bit sheepish due to the copious amounts of unwanted attention she was drawing tonight.

"So...uh...You said you're leavin' tomorrow?" he raised a sharp eyebrow, his blue eyes doing that strange, piercing thing again.

"Yeah. I've got to go back to my mother's. We sort of work together now, so I can't really leave her hanging." she explained.

"Oh? What do ya do?" he pried again, as she shifted under his gaze.

"I teach piano." she sighed, remembering the last time she'd played the piano on the rooftop of her old hut. "We both do. We mostly deal with children."

"Well, that's awful nice of ya." he grinned, picking at his teeth with a toothpick. "You...uh..._happy..._doin' that?"

"Yeah, actually." she paused, wondering why this man would ask such a strange question. "Really happy."

He smiled at her, nodding in what seemed to be satisfaction. "Can't argue with that. Too bad ya gotta leave tomorrow. You'll be missed." he said cryptically, alerting something inside herself. Just what was going on here? Why was everyone acting so strangely? Why did the air grow heavy and silent. Why was _he _not showing up?

"I was actually hoping BJ would be here." she admitted, as everyone exchanged wary glances around the table. "It's almost midnight. Where is he?"

Kevin reached over, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze, as he smiled softly. He and Alejandro nodded to Gerald, who stood, patting the man on the shoulder, before looking to Lydia with a sadness in his eyes. She stood, immediately wanting to follow them, only for Gerald to stop her at the door.

"Wait here, dear. We'll be back soon." he spoke softly, gently closing the door in front of her, shutting her inside.

"Hey uh...Can I talk to ya for a second?" she heard Ben ask from behind her.


	54. We Meet Again

Chapter 54: We Meet Again

Lydia eyed the man warily, as he fiddled with the toothpick in his hand, fidgeting about and staring at his empty scotch glass. She slowly walked back over to the table and seated herself across from him.

"What's going on?" she asked, feeling deeply troubled that no one was actually telling her anything.

"Well, ya see...The boys out there, they wanted me to fill ya in on a few things about yer ex-hubby." he began to explain, still not making eye contact with her.

Lydia began to feel her heart sink. Her face twisted in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean? Is he okay?" she questioned him, hearing the fear in her own voice. Sure, she wasn't with him in that way anymore, but she never wanted anything bad to happen to him just because of it. A part of her still wanted quite the opposite, actually.

"Lydia, that crazy guy ain't here no more." he stated, with a strangely pained expression on his sharp features.

"What are you talking about? Gerald said he was still around. I-I don't understand..." her voice began to quiver in panic, as she held a hand up to her lips.

"How's about you an' me take a walk? There's something...uh...he wanted to show ya."

* * *

Lydia stood at the shore, watching an old rickety sailboat rock to and fro on the waves, and feeling a shroud of sadness drift back in. She remembered hugging him one last time, and the last time he said he loved her. "Is this his boat? The one Gerald told me about?"

"Yeah, it ain't much, but it's somethin'." Ben said, leaning against a palm tree, the smoke from his cigarette drifting up to the lonesome sky.

"He told me BJ likes to go fishing now." Lydia sighed, wondering if this was all some weird joke. Maybe he'd pop up and try to propose to her again like a big idiot, she thought, hoping somehow she wouldn't leave without at least speaking to him. Something, _anything _was better than this silence standing in place of where he used to be.

"You miss him?" Ben asked, nonchalantly flicking his ashes into the sea, as she watched the fire die out as each cinder hit the water.

"Yeah...I do..." she said softly, brushing away her hair as the night breeze blew it into her eyes.

"There's uh...somethin' else he wanted me to show ya." Ben motioned for her to follow him until the two of them stood at the welcome mat of her former home. "He told me he used to watch ya swim from a beach chair right about there." he pointed to the spot BJ used to sit and get wasted in, time and again, usually grouching over her swimsuits.

"Yeah. He never really was much for swimming. He hates the water." she smirked, staring at the empty spot in the sand.

"Yeah, he still does." Ben snorted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key. "C'mon." he smirked, unlocking and opening the door.

When Ben flicked on the light, it was everything Lydia could do not to instantly burst into tears, as she eyed the inside of she and BJ's hut, realizing that it had remained untouched since the last day she'd laid eyes on it. Even Delia's terrible painting still hung on the wall, and she knew BJ would have burned that long ago, had he stayed there.

"He's not here, is he..." Lydia turned to Ben, her voice growing shaky once more.

"He told me you used to get drunk in that kitchen a lot." Ben continued, apparently ignoring her remark. "He said it was because of him bein' a massive dickhead to ya. That true?"

Lydia hesitated, staring at the counter for the longest time. "Yeah."

"Sorry he did that shit to ya." Ben shook his head, moving down the hallway and standing in front of the bedroom.

Lydia curiously followed behind him, watching his eyes narrow on the still unmade bed, studying it.

"That thing is really gawdy." Lydia smirked, eyeing the ridiculous heart-shaped pile of satin sheets. "It's ridiculous, really."

"He liked it, though." Ben nodded, sniggering and causing Lydia to cross her arms uncomfortably over her chest.

"He told you about _that?_" she asked, swallowing down her embarrassment.

"Yep. But don't worry. I ain't gonna talk about it...That is, unless ya _want_ to..." Ben raised his eyebrows, fiddling with the cigarette in his hand.

"No. That won't be necessary." Lydia quickly shook her head, walking past him and heading up the stairs to put a little distance between the two of them.

Of course, he came up right behind her, leaving a trail of smoke behind him. "Ah, he told me about this spot. This very spot!" Ben walked over to the balcony, gazing over it. "He said you practically proposed to his old grimy ass up here!"

"Well, technically, I guess I did." she admitted, wrinkling her nose up at the absurdity of it all.

"Wow..." Ben raised his wild eyebrows, grinning in what seemed to be amusement. "Now why the hell would a pretty girl like you propose to a nasty guy like that?!"

"Excuse me?" Lydia folded her arms defiantly, partly shocked by what the man said, even if it was true.

"You heard me! What would drive ya to marry a moron like that? Are ya crazy?!" he cackled, flicking his smoke off the balcony.

"Hey...That's not funny..." Lydia said, even though it was actually kind of funny, in a really outlandish, bizarre kind of way.

"Then why are you grinnin' like that?" he egged her on, pulling a beer from thin air.

"I guess it is pretty crazy." Lydia shrugged, feeling at a loss for words when she really thought about it. "Maybe _I'm _just crazy. Yeah...definitely..." she grinned, biting her lip and feeling pretty ridiculous.

"Nah, yer just a good person, Lydia. Here you are in Paradise, a place where hundreds of big, young muscleheads would stomp each other's asses to get a girl like you, and you propose to a middle-aged, half rotted wacko!" he laughed hysterically, stepping up to her. "You know what I think?"

"What?" Lydia narrowed her eyes in on him, noting that he was gazing at her intensely. His blue eyes were sharp and piercing, and there was something strange about the way he looked at her.

"I got to know him pretty well over this last year, and I gotta say...He's changed a lot. Ah' course, he was still a big ole' asshole when he was with you. I think the fucker got what he had comin' to him. He was just a miserable, lonely dead guy who didn't appreciate what he had until he lost it. He was right to let ya go. You never needed a dope like that. He needed you. I wish that dumb bastard could've seen ya the way I see ya right now. He would have saved you both a lot of trouble..." Ben smirked, reaching into his pocket.

"Wait...Why are you saying that?" Lydia began to breathe heavily, looking about them. "Where is he?"

"Lydia..." he said, pulling out an object. When he opened his hand, BJ's old wedding band rested in the palm of it. "Betelgeuse is gone. He ain't comin' back."

She stared at the slightly tarnished object for the longest time, as tears involuntarily rolled down her cheeks. She gently picked it up, watching it reflect in the moonlight. "I-I don't understand..." she began to wipe at her face, feeling too astounded to think straight. "What happened to him? And why are you saying his name? You're not supposed to say that!"

"Shhh, it's okay. He ain't dead or anything. Well, technically we ALL are, but that ain't the point." he held his hand up, in an attempt to calm her down. "I'll tell ya what happened to him." he said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the rails overlooking the glittering ocean.

"See, he knew it was over for him when he saw you at Rose's house that last time. He just wanted to make sure you were okay. He never really intended to go anywhere when he came home, but when he woke up the next morning the ring was on the floor, and he wasn't really Betelgeuse anymore." the man said, as every hair on Lydia's body began to stand on end. Finally, that piercing gaze began to seem somehow recognizable and make more sense. That husky voice that hit her ears began to ring familiar all of a sudden.

Lydia's mouth began to gape open, as he continued, gently brushing the side of her cheek. "He didn't expect to see you here again, so he wasn't real prepared for it. But here you are..."

"B-BJ?" Lydia asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Benjamen James LaRou to be precise, but hell, call me BJ! Here in the flesh, Babe!" he held out his arms, and without any notice, Lydia lept into them, grabbing and squeezing him tightly.

"I-I can't believe it's you!" she smiled, tears streaming down her face.

"Me neither_. Believe me_..." he chuckled, rubbing her back affectionately.


	55. That Ship Has Sailed

Chapter 55: That Ship Has Sailed

Lydia watched as BJ untied the sailboat, gesturing for her to get in with a big, sly grin on his face.

"Fishing, huh? I never saw that coming." she admitted, seating herself across from him, as he tapped the side of the boat, using his powers to send it out to sea.

"Eh, nobody did." he shrugged, materializing two beers in his hands and offering her one. "But hey, it did me some good, ya know? Met a few other gross, divorced, old guys to go fishin' with. I mean_, this _is a helluva lot better," he said, motioning to her, "but it's been a decent distraction."

Lydia took the beer, studying his features in the moonlight. "A distraction. I understand that. I can't say I haven't done that myself." She took a sip, noting that he had the same eyes she always remembered. "I didn't know your eyes were blue."

"Heh. Damn near forgot that mahself." BJ snorted, grinning and looking off in the distance. He turned back to her. "So, uh, whaddaya think? Is it an improvement, er do ya like me better with a bunch of mold on my ass?" he held his arms out, teasing her.

"I like you both ways, but I have to say...You turned out pretty good." she smiled, averting her eyes from him.

"Both ways? Yer still too nice, Babe! You know I looked like hot ass smells." he scolded her again, tapping his fingers on the side of the boat and appearing a bit frustrated. "I know you didn't like eatin' around me. Ah'course that ain't a problem for me no more, but all the same. And I won't even start with some of the _other_ shit we did! How the hell did ya stomach my ass so long, Babe?" he asked, seeming genuinely astonished that she'd been okay with his earlier, far less appealing form.

Lydia studied on his question a moment, before hesitantly replying. "I guess I loved you enough that it didn't matter." she shrugged, feeling really strange about saying that, considering the look he was giving her.

"Fuck, Babe, did ya learn nothin' while I was away?!" he shook his head, taking another drink of his beer.

"Probably not." she teased, feeling amused by his concern and somehow feeling like they'd never been apart. "I'm glad you're still here, BJ."

"Me too, but I wasn't even nice to ya, Babe. You're new boyfriend know you're this easy to please? You'd better not tell him..." he warned, as Lydia nearly spewed beer from her lips.

"New boyfriend? What new boyfriend?!" she laughed, shaking her head.

"Bullshit, Babe. I know ya got one. Look, it's all good. I understand how shit is. You ain't gotta worry about hurtin' my feelings. I already told ya, if you're good, then I'm good. That's the deal from now on. As long as you're happy and no dickwad is treatin' ya like dirt, then we're solid, Babe." he explained, getting way more serious than she'd ever expected.

"Seriously, BJ. There is no boyfriend." she admitted, frowning.

"Girlfriend?" he raised a brow, sniggering. "Hey, I won't judge ya for it. Hell, bein' with me would turn anyone gay after a while. I figure it's just a natural reaction."

"I'm not with anybody, BJ. It's just me." she shrugged, her lips curled in a half-grin just from listening to his ramblings.

"Exes? One night stands? C'mon, gimme somethin' juicy, Babe! We're two grown ass adults here. Lay it on me." he leaned forward, clasping his hands together.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing to tell. None of that happened while I was away." she admitted, watching his face twist in confusion.

"You can't tell me I'm the only guy you've been with, Babe!" he shook his head in disbelief. "And there you go saying that 's' word again. I told you about that!"

"Yeah, yeah. I know, BJ. I'll try to get better about that. I'm telling the truth, by the way. So, how about you?" she asked, trying to direct the attention onto him so she wouldn't receive any more of his annoying, albeit well-intentioned scoldings.

She watched as his expression calmed down dramatically. "Nah." he shrugged, not seeming to want to talk about it.

Lydia could see hints of sadness in his eyes, and she couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. "You're a free man, BJ. You have the same rights as I do." she insisted, feeling sorry for his apparent loneliness.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Babe." he admitted, chugging the rest of his beer and tossing it into the ocean.

"Why?" she asked him, before even thinking.

"Why would I? You were the one, and I fucked that up big time. There ain't no other, Babe." he replied, looking more sober and serious than she'd ever seen him before. "You were it."

"So what are you going to do when I leave? Check on me for the rest of my life? Scold me for being too nice?" she asked in earnest, wanting to know just what was going on with him.

"If that's what it takes." he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I can't have anyone else doin' that shit to ya. That's the only reason I'm bein' a dick about it."

"So if I ran to the edge of Paradise and back acting like a mad woman, you'd follow me?" she raised a brow, now on the verge of teasing him just for her own amusement.

"Why? That on your to-do list 'er somethin'?" he asked, his voice growing thick and grumpy like she remembered. "Am I gonna have to follow yer ass home and make sure you ain't plannin' on doin' somethin' crazy?"

It was at that moment, the moment of truth, the moment that she knew he'd never leave her, that she couldn't keep her feelings to herself anymore. "I still love you, BJ."

Upon hearing those words, he paused, and the world around her seemed to do the same as she waited for him to say something. Anything. Finally, as his apparent shock seemed to gradually fade, he began to speak. "Lydia, Babe, I ain't so sure you should be spillin' yer heart out to me like that anymore..."

Lydia swallowed her emotions down, her hopes falling into the pits of her stomach. "Oh..."

He sighed, stepping over to sit beside her. "Look...It ain't that I don't love ya, cause, believe me, I do. That's permanent, Babe." BJ explained, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "But you don't need to go tryin' to reach out to my no-good ass anymore. You've always done that shit, an' it ain't no good for ya...You don't need to talk someone into bein' with ya, especially not someone as shitty as I've been to ya. I don't want you to sit on this boat, just like you did on that damned balcony, tryin' to talk a middle-aged, no account, slimy, con man into bein' with ya...Understand?"

Lydia could feel her lip trembling. "B-but..."

"No, Babe. You've always come runnin' back to my ass, remember? Ya came back apologizin' to me about a shitty deal I screwed you over in? When you nearly wiped yourself out savin' my lyin' ass from the feds? When ya talked me into bein' with ya?" his voice became more intense with each damning question, and Lydia could only bring herself to stare down at her feet, knowing he was telling the truth. At that moment, he touched her chin, gently guiding her to face him, as he looked into her eyes. "You need someone who'll come runnin' back to _you_, Babe."

* * *

Lydia stood at the dock, facing BJ. "Well, I guess this is it..." she spoke, her emotions erratic and all over the place.

"Take care ah' yerself, Babe." he smirked at her. "And promise me you won't do that goin' crazy stuff ya talked about."

"I promise." Lydia smiled.

"Ah-ah! Shake on it!" he scolded her, holding his hand out, as she took it.

"Deal?" he raised a wary eyebrow.

"Deal." Lydia chuckled, shaking her head in amusement.

He didn't let go of her hand, but instead pulled her in and hugged her tightly, causing her to feel that sadness linger back in. She wished it could've always been like this. He was finally the person she knew he'd been the whole time, and yet, he was completely out of her grasp.

"Love ya, Babe." he said, rubbing her back affectionately.

"Likewise." she teased, hoping to lighten the heartache she was experiencing. Eventually, the horn of the ship began to sound off, and their embrace came to an end, with Lydia walking up the ramp and away from the person she loved more than anything, yet couldn't be with.

She turned a final time as she boarded the ship, waving to him with a melancholic smile on her features. He grinned that sly grin she'd come to love over the years, winking at her as the ship began to leave the harbor.


	56. The Long Way Home

Chapter 56: The Long Way Home

Lydia stood at the window, gazing out at sea with her arms folded, tapping her finger on her forearm to keep time with the music. Chopsticks echoed about clumsily, as her little pupil struggled to learn the keys.

When the young girl finished, Lydia turned to her, trying not to pretend she'd been distracted by that familiar, lingering sadness that wouldn't quite leave her. "Okay, Lily, that was much better than last time. Just keep practicing." she smiled, watching the bright-eyed girl's face light up from the praise. "Okay, who wants to go next?" she asked, as her class, who happened to be sitting in the floor around her mother's piano, began to raise their hands, giggling and trying to garner her attention.

"Wow. Seems like you guys are eager today." she chuckled in amusement.

Suddenly, however, her mother's voice sounded from the front door. "LYDIA! YOU HAVE A VISITOR!"

Lydia's face twisted in confusion, as she stood there in her baffled state. "JUST A MINUTE!" she yelled back, before turning to the wiggling, excited children. "Just take turns practicing and I'll be right with you." she instructed before hurriedly rushing off to her mother.

* * *

Lydia stepped up to Rose, who wore a sobering expression, as she stood in front of the door. "Who is it?"

"I think it'd be better if you just go out there and see for yourself." Rose fidgeted about. "Go ahead. I'll take care of the kids." she said, patting her on the shoulder and quickly walking off, causing Lydia to shake her head in confusion as to why Rose was acting so strangely.

She took a deep breath, straightening her dress and turning the knob, cautiously opening the door. "BJ?!" she nearly gasped, seeing him with his back turned to the door, fumbling with something in his hands.

"Woah!" he turned about, holding a big, ridiculously bright bouquet of flowers. "Hey, Babe! Long time no see, amirite?" he waggled his eyebrows, cigarette dangling from his scruffy lips. "Oh, uh..." he mumbled, thrusting the bouquet at her nervously and nearly knocking her back with it. "Got these for ya."

"Oh, thanks." she chuckled, feeling completely shocked that he'd randomly showed up at her door. "They're nice. I'll go put them in some water."

"Wait!" he threw up his hands, stopping her. "I gotchya some more stuff! C'mere!" he waved her over excitedly, where a golf cart sat in the sand, completely loaded with gift boxes and bags.

Lydia slowly walked behind him, feeling speechless, as she watched him clamor about, pulling out armfulls of shopping bags. "I didn't know what ya liked best so I gotcha a little bit of everything! Jerryboy told me which books ya liked. Oh, and I know ya like music, so I got ya a bunch of CD's and shit. Had no idea which ones ya liked, so I got 'em all!" he grinned widely, damn near throwing the bag at her in his strange bout of excitement.

Lydia caught it, nearly dropping both it and the bouquet, as she curiously pulled a couple of CD's out, smirking when she found that one was Weird Al Yankovic and the other was a Yanni album. "Thanks, BJ. You didn't have to do that."

"Eh, I wanted to do somethin' nice for ya." he shrugged, taking the heaps of bags and setting them on her doorstep. "Oh, yeah! Look at this!" he said, digging around the front seat of the golf cart and pulling out a wallet. "I got to see a lot a cool shit on the way over, too." he opened it up, as a roll of about a hundred photographs in plastic slips tumbled down into the sand. He motioned her over, as she grinned with amusement, looking over his shoulder.

"Look, there's me at a car show in East Paradise. Didn't have a car, but thought what the hell ya know? It was on the way. And there's me by the afterlife's biggest volcano. Oh, look here!" he pointed anxiously, blowing cigarrette smoke out the side of his lips.

Lydia's brow furrowed. "What's that big ball you're standing next to?"

"Ah." he nodded, smiling proudly. "That's Paradise's Biggest Lint Ball!"

"Lint ball?" Lydia sniggered. "I didn't even know we had lint in Paradise. Where did they find all of it?"

"Heh!" he snorted, taking the smoke out of his mouth and flicking it in the sand. "Beats the fuck outta me! Was a nice detour though. Oh, there's me at a male strip club, totally not intended, but I had to piss and they had a pisser..." he rambled on, causing her to nearly burst out into a fit of laughter. It was not only good to see him, but great to see him so happy and full of life again. "Oh, and here's me at the final bridge, you know, the ones connecting all these islands across the ocean. Takes a hell of a long time to travel, ah course..."

"Wait." Lydia paused, looking into his eyes. "You traveled across THOSE?!" she gasped, taken aback.

"Yup. Took a bit longer than I planned, ya know? Golf carts ain't the swiftest form of transportation, if ya get mah drift." he grinned, rolling up his absurdly long roll of photographs.

"You crossed the bridges on a golfcart." Lydia said, in near disbelief. "Just how long did it take you to get here?"

He studied on it a moment, before looking at the now single watch on his hairy wrist, before scratching his head. "Eh, about six months, give 'er take." he shrugged, as Lydia's jaw nearly dropped into the sand.

"You traveled half a year to come see me? Why didn't you take the ship? Or a sea plane? Anything?!" she asked, feeling terrible that he'd went to such great lengths for a visit and some totally unnecessary gifts.

"Everything was kinda booked up, what with it bein' travel season an' all." he shrugged. "I got tired of waitin'." BJ paused a moment, squinting across the sea as the sun poured in his face. "What can I say? I missed ya, Babe."

Lydia smiled, that sad void inside of her filling up in his presence once more, feeling too caught up in the moment for words. He held out his hand to her. "I got somethin' else for ya." he said quietly, as she slowly took it. He led her up to the shore, where she looked down at the waves gently lapping at the sand.

"I, uh...didn't just come here for a visit." his voice grew softer and his disposition more serious, causing Lydia to look up at him, watching him gaze out over the sun kissed waters. "I came here for you..." he said, turning to her, as something inside her began to well up, her undead heart skipping a beat. "I love you, Lydia. I'll never stop. I never deserved you, and I don't really deserve ya now." he said, taking his old, tarnished ring out of his pocket and heaving it into the ocean. "You got yours?" he asked, raising a brow.

Lydia nodded silently, pulling out a necklace from under the collar of her dress and unclasping it, and sliding the old ring off, nodding as she handed it over to him. He nodded back, tossing her old, formerly cursed ring in, as she watched it gleam one final time in the sunlight, before sinking into the depths of the ocean forever.

"Now that we got that outta the way..." he grinned slyly, reaching into his pocket again. "You never have to be with me...But I'd sure love it if you would." he said, as Lydia's face fell slack, her hand coming up to cover her lips. "Time to do this the right way..."

She watched, speechless, as he bent down on one knee, pulling out a small box and opening it. "Lydia Deets, formerly Lydia Juice...Will you marry me?" he asked, his eyes piercing into her, promising to fill that empty void for good.

She smiled, her eyes filling up with happy tears. She began to nod, too speechless to even speak.

"So...That a 'yes', or..." he teased, cocking his head to the side and playing dumb.

"Yes." she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, as he slid an expensive looking, sparkling ring on her finger.

BJ stood up, taking her face in his hands and kissing her softly on the lips. He felt warm and alive, and it felt as if he'd never really left her in the first place. When their lips parted, he looked into her eyes, smirking. "Told ya you needed a guy who'd come runnin' after you..."

Lydia smiled, turning her head at the sound of the front door opening. She locked eyes with Rose, who stood there with a knowing expression on her face, smiling warmly back at her.


	57. Third Time's a Charm!

Chapter 57: Third Time's a Charm!

Lydia sat in the guest room, adjusting her white gown, as Barbara took her hair out of the copious amounts of rollers she'd placed in there. "This isn't turning out. I don't think I wrapped them tight enough..." she sighed, rubbing at her temple in frustration.

"It's a good thing we're dead." Lydia grinned.

"Yeah." Barbara shrugged, pointing to Lydia's hair, as it fell down to her waist, curling in wringlets along the way. "I guess I just wanted to try the old fashioned way. Like old times. Remember when I did your hair for graduation?"

"I bet she was beautiful." Rose smiled, sitting on the vanity with her legs crossed at the ankles, swinging them back and forth like a giddy school girl.

"She was." Barbara smiled back at Rose, as she backed away. Rose slid down from the vanity, allowing Lydia to view herself.

Lydia stepped up, gazing over the beautiful gown. "Thanks you guys. You did a good job on the makeup, Mom."

Rose shrugged. "It's nothing." She put her hand up to Lydia's cheek, brushing away some loose powder. "You look beautiful, honey."

"She really does." Barbara gleamed. "Just don't let him by with anything stupid this time, okay?"

"I won't. Believe me." Lydia chuckled sheepishly, as both Rose and Barbara sniggered in return.

"Lydia, are you ready?!" Delia came rushing in, stepping in front of her reflection to wipe a smudge of red lipstick off of her teeth. She turned around. "You look marvelous, dear! Now you'd better get out there."

* * *

Ben stood before the altar, fidgeting about nervously as his eyes grazed the crowd, which was mostly full of Kevin's and Lydia's little entourage. Go figure. Having a big, elaborate, outdoor wedding wasn't his cup of tea, per se, but if it suited the Misses, then it suited him, he reasoned.

"You nervous?" Adam leaned over, mumbling under his breath.

"Kinda'. Don't know why. Guess I'm not used to big, fancy celebrations an' all that." he admitted, adjusting his tie.

"Yeah, well Rose insisted that her daughter have a big wedding. You knew that was coming." Adam smirked.

"Well, it is simply divine." Gerald spoke out from beside Adam, marveling at the archway covered with pale flowers.

"Just don't screw it up this time." Adam snorted, though BJ could tell he still had a bit of a stick up his ass. Well, it was to be expected, he reasoned.

"Wouldn't dream of it, pal." Ben muttered, all but rolling his eyes.

"Oh, here she comes." Alejandro stood at the end, his hands clasped together lovingly, as he watched in anticipation.

Ben straightened himself, as a small quartet began to play wedding music, which was kind of pinky up and weird, but he thought, hey what the hell. All that really mattered was that girl standing at the end of the aisle.

* * *

"Thanks, Dad." Lydia whispered in Charles' ear, as they stood arm-in-arm, ready to walk to the pulpit.

"For what, Pumpkin?" he asked back in a hushed tone, as the two began to walk down the aisle.

"For being okay with this." she replied, astounded that her whole family had taken the news so well this time around.

"Don't mention it, Pumpkin. Besides, I think it's safe to say he's a changed man." Charles smiled at her, as they marched up the steps, where he released her.

Lydia looked to her left, seeing Barbara and Delia standing with wide smiles and happy eyes, while Kevin held his hand up to his mouth, looking as if he could barely hold his emotions in. She flashed them a large grin from under her veil, before stepping up to her soon to be, non ex, but current husband.

BJ pulled back her veil, a sly grin creeping onto his lips. "Hey there, Beautiful. Ready to do this?" he asked, his voice soft and hushed.

She nodded, gazing into his eyes for the longest time, seeming to become so lost in the moment that the long, tedious wedding speech the priest was giving simply didn't register. As a matter of fact, BJ was the one who had to get her attention.

"Babe." he turned his head toward the old man in priest's robes.

"I said, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" he droned, none to amused with her lack of attention.

She nodded quickly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I do." she chuckled, shrugging a bit sheepishly.

The priest cleared his throat. "And do you, Benjamen, take Lydia to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"Damn straight!" he snorted, alerting a wave of laughter and amusement from the guests and a scowl from the priest. "Oh, uh. I mean I do." she watched as BJ fidgeted about with a big, dopey grin on his face.

Lydia looked over to the priest, who sighed, rolling his eyes at them. "Then, by the power vested in me, and in the eternal plane of Paradise, echoing throughout the entirety of combined metaphysical planes, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

At that moment, she felt him pull her in close, as she closed her eyes, her lips meeting his own. The moment seemed to stand still, and she could have sworn that strange connection was still between the two of them somehow, albeit no longer because of some twisted curse. No, it was something more. He was her soulmate, eternally bonded to her forever, and that was all she could ask for.

As the moment came to a close, their lips parted as she stood back, gazing into his eyes among the clapping and cheers of her loved ones undying love and support. She smiled, looking over to see Juan in the front seat, with Rose at his side, clapping and smiling proudly with tears streaming down her face. It was all she could do to stifle back her own emotions and not sog up her makeup with tears.

"Well, Babe. Looks like the third time's a charm." BJ grinned slyly, and somehow, just underneath those blue, piercing eyes, Lydia could've sworn she saw a flash of that feral, green wildness shine through, if only for a glimmer of a moment. It wasn't that Beetlejuice was gone from her life forever. He'd never really left in the first place.


	58. Epilogue

Epilogue

Ben stood in front of he and Lydia's former, yet once again current home, flailing about in front of the bonfire with a cigar dangling from his lips, trying to come up with the most bullshit story imaginable just to see if anyone would actually believe him. "That fucker was huge! I'd say its balls alone were the size ah my head!" he exclaimed, throwing up his arms and sloshing some of his beer out, splashing Gerald in the face with it. This had been their fifth family reunion, and it had become a personal goal of his to bullshit everyone a bit more every year. Did anyone actually believe his ass? Hell no! Was it fun as hell to watch everyone stare at him like he had six arms, four eyeballs, and a head full of fire? Yes. Yes it was.

"So you're telling me that you think the Loch Ness monster came up and hit your boat." Adam eyed him skeptically, apparently not impressed in the least.

"Swear it, pal!" Ben said, pointing his cuban cigar in Adam's direction. "It put a huge fuckin' hole in the side of it. You saw it, didn't ya Babe?" he asked, laying his sights on Lydia for a bit, hoping to get a rise out of her.

"BJ, your boat is full of holes. It's a piece of crap." Lydia smirked, rolling her eyes at him as she took a drink of her beer.

"You wouldn't sayin' that last night, when we were on it..." he growled, waggling his eyebrows at her and grinning deviously.

"Oh my god, shut up..." Lydia muttered, bringing her hand to her forehead and appearing completely embarrassed, which was, admittedly, cute as hell.

"On that note, I think I'm going to go to the bathroom." Charles stood up awkwardly, apparently leaving the disturbing conversation concerning his daughters sex life.

"We didn't need to hear that." Barbara scolded him, roasting a hotdog in the flames.

"What?!" Ben huffed indignantly, pretending he was offended by that. "We're all adults here! Ya don't have a good marriage without bumpin' uglies every once in a while! Ain't that right, Babe?" he turned back to his wife, who looked like she was going to rip his nuts off and place them on the end of her stick along with that marshmallow.

"They get the point, BJ. Now, get over here. I'm sure everyone's tired of listening to you by now." she shot him a look of pure annoyance, as he shrugged, stepping over to sit beside her.

"Alright. Suit yerselves. That big fucker's really out there though, believe it or not!" he insisted, being a good boy and doing what his wife said before she physically castrated him in front of everyone.

"You know you're full of shit, right?" Lydia eyed him over, grinning mischievously.

"I wouldn't say _that_..." he mumbled, purposely trying to appear as clueless as possible.

"I would." she snorted, rubbing his back affectionately. "So how long is it?"

"Me an' the fellas are gonna board in about an hour, which means we'd better get our asses in gear pretty soon so we don't miss our chance." he replied, glancing at their family and friends all gathered about the campfire, chatting each other up and generally having a decent time. However, two people seemed to be missing. "Hey, uh, where's Rose and Juanny boy?"

"They went inside the hut, off to themselves." Lydia's brow wrinkled in a bit of awkward disgust.

"Eh, I wouldn't worry. Delia's in there keepin' em too scared with that abomination she's sculpting to try and fool around. Hell, that stuff she makes causes my dick to crawl up inside me every time I look at it." he said, prompting Lydia to burst out laughing.

"God, you're stupid." she shook her head.

He grinned slyly in response. "So, uh, what are you an' the girls gonna do while we're gone for the week? Gamble? Drink? Hire a bunch of male strippers with little g-strings to wiggle their junk in yer face?"

"Oh, please!" she rolled her eyes. "Mom will be with me, mostly. You know, spending quality time together and all." Lydia smirked, taking another drink of her beer. "Barbara and Kevin might coax Delia out of that guest room to go shopping, but you know how she is when she gets _inspired_..."

"Yup. Unfortunately." Ben grunted, biting down on his cigar and snarling his lip up in preparation for the future terror Delia would create.

"Who knows, maybe Juno and Annie will drop on by while your gone. They usually do." Lydia shrugged, and he snorted to himself, amazed by how she really did seem to love everybody, unlike himself, of course. Juno wasn't so bad, save for bein' the biggest eyesore this side of Paradise, but Annie...Yeah, he could live without seein' that hairy moled woman for the rest of eternity. However, if Lydia was happy meeting up with Wrinklebags and Ms. Gonorrhea, then who was he to stop her?

"I do miss working with Mom a little." Lydia sighed, returning to thoughts of her mother, as Ben sensed a hint of sadness in her voice.

"I know you miss those kids." he leaned in, nudging her arm gently. "Heya...We oughta take a trip back down that way soon. Ya know, pay 'em a visit fer a couple weeks. Let ya see 'em."

She looked into his eyes smiling, the firelight reflecting in her eyes and letting him know just how happy that made her. "Yeah. That would be nice, BJ."

"Tell Rose she'd better be expectin' us soon!" he raised his brow. "Well, Babe. It's that time again..." he said, looking at his scuffed up watch. "I'd better get these dickwads movin'. Is...uh, Juanny boy finally comin' this time...er...?" he muttered in a hushed voice, as he watched Rose and Juan leave the hut, joining them all by the fire.

"You'll be pleasantly surprised to know that Mom finally talked him into it." Lydia nodded, with a proudly satisfied look on her face.

"Good. It's about damned time." He grunted, finishing his beer and vanishing the empty bottle.

"Well, I can't say I blame him. His first impression of you wasn't the best, BJ." she shot him a telling look.

"True, but sooner or later, they all come around, don't they, Babe?" he cackled, waggling his eyebrows at her.

"You'd better get going, Knucklehead." Lydia smiled at him, making him presumably the happiest guy in the after life.

"You're right. Don't do anything I wouldn't do, kapeesh?" he raised a brow, standing up and dusting the sand out of his pants.

Lydia stood up beside him, "That's a really loaded question, BJ. Be good." she smiled warmly, still looking just as beautiful as the first day they reconnected in the afterlife, if not more so.

"I will, Babe. Promise." he smiled back at her, as he stepped to the side, clearing his throat. "OKAY, BOYS, LET'S GET A MOVE ON!" he yelled, his voice harsh and gravelly. He watched as Adam, Gerald, Chuck, and Alejandro gathered around.

"Where's Juan? I thought he decided to join us this time?" Alejandro clasped his hands together, looking about himself.

"Okay, Guess we'll do a roll call." Ben grunted, only to be interrupted by the likes of none other than Adam.

"Please." he sighed, appearing annoyed, as per usual. "We don't need a roll call. He's coming this way."

Ben watched as Juan hesitantly joined them, awkwardly glancing at him with a bit of uneasiness still in his eyes. "Alright. I'm here." he said with about as much enthusiasm as a person waiting in line at the DMV.

"Well, we're glad to have you along with us." Gerald welcomed him, materializing a bottle of sparkling seltzer water in his hand.

"Oh, no ya don't, Jerryroll!" Ben grouched, pointing to his hand and changing it into a beer. "You can't get away with that girly stuff here. You know the rules. You're out with the boys now!"

He glanced over to Juan, who was watching him nervously.

"I know he's an idiot, but you'll get used to him in time." Adam shrugged, forming a beer in his own hand.

"Thanks, pal. Glad you could talk me up." Ben shot his hardest _fuck you_ glare at Adam as a beer formed in his own hand, while Alejandro followed suit and patiently awaited his signal with a beer of his own. Why couldn't they all be like Alejandro, he wondered. The guy was as mellow as a ten year old jug of piss. Of course, eating edible hashish for breakfast everyday probably had that effect. He then glanced back to Juan, sighing and juicing a beer in Latin Romeo's empty hand. "There ya go, pal. You can thank me later."

"C'mon, let's get this ridiculous thing over with so we can get going!" Adam huffed, looking at the ship in the distance, which had already pulled in to the dock.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm hurryin'," Ben rolled his eyes. "OKAY, BOYS! WE MEET AGAIN, HERE IN THIS VERY SPOT...FOR THE NOT THIRD, NOT FOURTH, BUT FIFTH YEAR AND COUNTIN'! FELLAS, RAISE THOSE BEERS!" he commanded, as they all six did just that, Juan being extra hesitant about it, however. "DRINK, UP BOYS! TO THE BOOZE CRUISE!" he yelled, as they all clinked their beers together, before guzzling them down.

"Alright, now let's get going before we miss it!" Chuck giggled excitedly, as they all began to take off in that direction, Ben being the last of them.

He looked over his shoulder a final time, seeing Lydia sitting at the campfire, laughing and talking to Barbara. She glanced his way, with a big, beautiful smile spreading across her lips. It was still the most beautiful smile he'd ever laid eyes on, and she was still a completely and utterly perfect angel who'd be eternally pouty about how perfect she really was. That was okay, though, because as reluctant as she was about herself, she was the best thing to ever happen to him in all of his lives combined. And though he felt like he'd never quite stack up to someone so perfect, he was eternally grateful she was his. And who knew she'd actually turn him into a decent guy? It was nothing short of a miracle to have her, and maybe that's why they called it Paradise. Either way, Lydia was happy, and that made him the happiest he'd ever been. He grinned at her, raising his empty beer bottle toward her.

Lydia held her hand up, subtly waving him off, as the giant cruise ship sounded its horn in the distance, alerting him that he had to leave. He winked at her one final time, before turning and jogging toward his destination, knowing that she'd be there when he returned, and that was all he'd ever really wanted.

..._The End..._

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Wow! Whew! When I started my first Beetlejuice fanfic I never thought I'd actually make it this far. I'm so sad for my little trilogy to be over, and I hope it didn't disappoint anyone. I really wanted a great ending for two of my favorite characters of all time, and I hope you all enjoyed it. I really wanted things to be truly right between them, and I feel like I can happily leave this story at its final end. If it wasn't your cup of tea, then I'm just appreciative that you came this far and gave it a read. If anything, I just love to write and entertain, and I hope it did just that. Please, let me know what you think! I'd love any feedback on this, as I love hearing your opinions! Once again, thank you all so much for reading. Best wishes to you all and see you around... :)_


End file.
